


The Good Cannibal

by chee



Category: Hannibal (TV), The Good Place (TV)
Genre: AU, Afterlife, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Crack, Dark Will Graham, Demons, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Heaven & Hell, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Soulmates, Will Graham Knows, the good place AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-04-03 23:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14007408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chee/pseuds/chee
Summary: Hannibal Lecter is accidentally placed into the Good Place (heaven) instead of the Bad Place (hell) due to a filing error. Alongside his supposed soulmate, Will Graham, they have to lie so that he isn't found out by the Architect of the neighborhood: Frederick Chilton, so that he can stay in the Good Place.Fic will have The Good Place spoilers, but you don't need to have watched the show to enjoy (none of the TGP characters are in this fic, just the general idea of the show is used). Read with caution if you don't want to be spoiled.





	1. A Thomas Kinkade Painting

**Author's Note:**

> this is total crack and i may or may not continue writing it depending on my mood since i am working on another fanfic that i really do need to actually....work on.........but yeah here.
> 
> if you like the fic, throw me suggestions for torture ideas on these two forkheads in luv
> 
> if you dont like the fic, throw me some terrible horrible no good comments that would totally make me cry in the middle of the night while i contemplate my utter filthy failure over writing a crack fic that i shirt out in two minutes thanks.
> 
> thanks to https://wollfgangsblog.tumblr.com for the title idea!!!

His eyes open.

“Hannibal Lecter?”

Hannibal turns his attention from a wall with hideous green text reading: “Welcome! Everything is fine.” to a man wearing an equally hideous bow tie.

“You can come in now,” he gestures into his office. “I’m Frederick,” he continues, extending his hand out for a handshake.

Unsure of where he even _is,_ the man _does_ know his name and he _does_ seem to have an appointment here. It would be rude to blow him off and walk out. So, that is how Hannibal Lecter is now sitting in an office across from Frederick.

He is silent for a moment, sitting there across from the older man, and then finally he asks: “why am I here?”

“You’re in the Good Place. You’re dead,” he says bluntly.

“Ah,” Hannibal replies quietly. The prospect that this was some haywire mind palace room run amuck briefly occurs to him but as Frederick begins to explain how he died: an awful accident in an opera house where the chandelier broke and instantly crushed him in front of all of the Baltimore socialites while he was talking about the minute differences between Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon it begins to dawn on him that he really is quite dead. No way would his mind kill himself off in such a cartoon-y way.

Frederick softly pats the file in front of him and opens it up, “but! Don’t worry Mr. Lecter, as you have lived a gracious and charitable life. You raked up quite a lot of points and earned a spot in the Good Place.”

For all his posturing bullshit about how God is quite violent for dropping a church on top of his most loyal followers and therefore God himself is a total dick, Hannibal briefly looks to the side thinking about all the people he had murdered and consumed and wonders for the first time in his life: really? My pretentious bullshit was right?

“I mean, all those months you spent building orphanages for children in far remote countries, the animal shelters you saved from the brink of closure, and well the selfless act in saving several lives by stopping a ticking bomb on a bus. Beautiful, you are truly a good person.”

None of that ever happened, Hannibal thinks.

He is about to open his mouth and confess that the contents of that file in Frederick’s hands were severely off when Frederick starts: “please, follow me. I’ll give you the grand tour.”

And so he does, and follows Frederick silently through the streets of the Good Place where hundreds of its other citizens are milling about and enjoying heaven’s splendor. As they pass by the fifth frozen yogurt shop, Hannibal interrupts Frederick’s explanation of point system that measures whether a person is admitted or not: “There are quite a lot of frozen yogurt shops here.”

“Yes, as I’ve said before many of the things here in the Good Place are here by group consensus. Every neighborhood has its main favorite foods and here, every person in this neighborhood loves frozen yogurt! There will never be a line with how many frozen yogurt places there are! Isn’t that great?” Frederick exclaims with glee.

Hannibal nods, trying not to fucking loose it. Frozen yogurt? In heaven? He was right, God is a cruel being.

Frederick continues, “come, come. Let me show you to your new house.”

Many times in the real world, while deep in his mind palace, Hannibal had at times pictured what his dream house would be like. The many rooms holding dear memories and beautiful pieces of art, the people he had lost over the years including his darling Mischa, and music that would fill the house and place him in a blissful state.

None of that was in front of him as Frederick opened the door to some rundown cabin in the middle of the woods. “Your file explained that you were into the homesteading lifestyle, therefore your ideal Good Place home is,” he spreads his arms and with a smile gestures to the entire cabin’s decor, “this! Isn’t it just what you wanted?”

His jaw tense, Hannibal forces out a gruntled, “yes” as Frederick fiddles with a TV that looks like it was made in the 1990s.

“Here, you can rewatch all of your favorite memories! At any time, from your perspective.” Frederick flips it on, and the memory is definitely not Hannibal’s as he watches a pair of hands save a cat stuck in a tree. “Ahh, Princess Monstertruck. When you saved that poor kitty in the tree for that little girl, you got quite a lot of positive points from that one.”

Hannibal looks around some more, the cabin was not very large and had more crappy art that looked like something stolen from a motel on the side of an abandoned highway than he ever had the displeasure of looking upon. “The art, it is very-“

“You! Isn’t it? Simple paintings of farm lands, cottages, and forests. If by chance, we missed anything from your file that you wanted in your Good Place, all you have to do is ask for Beverly and she will bring you anything you want. Beverly!”

“Hi!” Beverly appears suddenly, a serene smile on her face.

“Hannibal, this is Beverly. Anything you ask for she will immediately procure it. Beverly, please, another beautiful cottage painting by Thomas Kinkade please! It’s his favorite artist…”

Somehow, Beverly pulls out a giant painting of a cottage and hands it over to Frederick.

“Great, thank you Beverly. You may go.”

“Okay!” she responds back with the same serene smile.

As she disappears with a computer-ish beep, Frederick hands the painting over to Hannibal, “I’ll let you hang that one wherever you please. Your bedroom perhaps? It’s upstairs.”

Another cottage painting in his hands, Hannibal is about to lose it. As he is about to turn and confess that his file must have been accidentally swapped with someone else, a man knocks on the door.

“Ah! Will!” Frederick smiles and gestures for the man to enter.

Of all the horrible things that Hannibal had the displeasure of looking at, Will was not one of them. He watches as the man enters, avoiding their gaze, and slowly raises his hand up to Hannibal – nonverbally asking for a handshake.

Hannibal is more than pleased to shake his hand, it is quick but the touch is enough to calm his nerves by all the excruciating pain he just had to witness with the frozen yogurt shops and a horrible cabin.

“This is your soulmate,” Frederick explains, "Hannibal Lecter."

Will forces a smile on his face, still avoiding Hannibal’s gaze, “nice to meet you, Hannibal.”

“Nice to meet you, Will.”

“With that I will leave you two love birds alone. Orientation is in two more hours, in the main courtyard of the neighborhood, see you then!” Frederick leaves then.

Will looks around, uncomfortable with the silence between the two, “so you’re apparently my soul mate.”

The man is very good looking, but he can’t even meet his gaze and the clothes alone: this cabin was definitely Will’s style with the plaid shirt and clearance rack work trousers. His soul mate was really this man? “Apparently so, please, sit.”

He does, taking a seat on a sofa that looks like it was picked up from Goodwill. “This house doesn’t really seem to be your style,” Will states, looking from the house décor to the fancy suit that Hannibal is currently wearing.

“A great observation, Will, because this isn’t my style.” Hannibal then gestures to the television currently playing a memory of someone else’s: saving a man’s life with the Heimlich maneuver in a fucking Taco Bell. Taco Bell? Hannibal would never be caught dead in a fucking Taco Bell. “And those aren’t my memories.”

“What?” Will replies, baffled and finally meeting Hannibal’s eyes. “What so you’re not supposed to be here?”

Hannibal looks down at the filthy sofa and pats it to get the dirt off. Why a dirty couch is anyone’s idea of heaven, he doesn’t know. He sits next to Will and looks deep into the man’s eyes, “I am not sure if I am supposed to be here or not, Will…?”

“Will Graham.”

He nods, “And I am Hannibal Lecter. Frederick seemed to have gotten my name right and the circumstances of my death, however absurd, it does sound like something that would happen to a man of my stature. But everything else, from the frozen yogurt to this entire house, this is not my definition of heaven.”

A sigh escapes Will’s mouth, “Oh thank god, you hate frozen yogurt too?”

“Never had it, and I plan to never have it in the immediate future.” Hannibal smiles at the younger man, he is rather endearing but there is no possible way that this man who is covered in dog hair – dog hair in heaven, how was that even possible? – was his soulmate. “I believe my file was accidentally swapped out.”

Will must have been on the same track as he looks over Hannibal’s clothing with a look of disdain, “then if your file was swapped out, then you are most likely not my soulmate?”

“It is possible. It seems that whoever’s dream it is to live in an awful cabin like this, they are the one that truly belongs here.”

“Awful cabin? It’s nice.”

Oh god, definitely not his soulmate. “The art on the walls look like something you would find for five cents at a yard sale…not that I’ve been to a yard sale…”

Will looks taken aback at Hannibal’s comment, offended. “We should go to Frederick and tell him that there was a mix up with your file.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” Hannibal explains, “there is a chance that I would not be able to stay here in the Good Place if my actual file deems that I belong in the Bad Place.”

“Well, did you do anything bad that would make you…you know? Go down there?”

Hannibal is silent for a moment, contemplating seriously telling Will that he was a serial killer that regularly killed impolite people and consumed their organs simply because he could and wanted to and then settled on the truth…but not the full truth: “I was an ER doctor and in my time in the hospital I accidentally killed quite a lot of people. I do not know if the people I saved would offset the people I couldn’t.”

That seems to placate Will’s worries, “oh. But surely just because you couldn’t save someone doesn’t mean you killed them.”

“I still feel a tremendous amount of guilt over the people that I could not save, Will. You see, that is why I transferred into the field of psychology. No one could be hurt through therapy.”

Will seems to flinch at that, Hannibal could tell that at this point Will did not believe Hannibal to be his soulmate as much as Hannibal did not believe that this raggedy man was his. “Fine, I won’t tell Frederick. But, I was supposed to stay here with you in this cabin. Frederick explained to me that since we were soulmates we would not mind living together this quickly.”

“And now you do not wish to stay here?”

Will looks Hannibal over, then stiffly stands up, “you don’t seem to be my soulmate. You actually seem rather pretentious, pompous, and arrogant.” Hannibal watches as Will wonders over to the front door, considering Will’s blunt rudeness and wondering how Will will taste with a matching of a Sauvignon. “But if I asked to be moved somewhere else, it might look suspicious. I’ll ask Beverly for a guest bed.”

His thoughts of possible recipes that he could serve Will up quickly end when a stampede of dogs that storm into the cabin.

No way this could be the Good Place, Hannibal thinks as a hairy husky jumps onto his body and drools all over his three piece suit.


	2. Dogs of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will arrives to the Good Place, rejoined with all of his dogs that have passed away since childhood. It's indeed heaven, aside from a party he has to attend with his not(?)-soulmate Hannibal, and god forbid: socializing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont ship jack and alana, they are "soulmates" in this fic solely because i want them in heaven with will. stick it out if you aint into that pairing either (is anyone?), it won't be for long.
> 
> jack's job was changed up as well, so that will doesn't know about him.
> 
> this is a crack fic, one that i'm not exactly editing. sorry for any error, i don't mind criticism btw.
> 
> leave a comment for some torture ideas for hannibal, i'll take them into consideration and work them in somewhere!

He opens his eyes.

“Will Graham?”

Will looks over to the man who called out his name, avoiding looking into the man’s eyes and staring off just to the side and focusing more on his ear than anything else.

“You may come on in now,” the man says.

As Will gets up he looks over the wall in front of him reading: “Welcome! Everything is fine.” Welcome…where exactly?

“You’re in the Good Place, or what you humans refer to 'heaven' on Earth,” Frederick says once they are settled at his office desk.

Will finally meets Frederick’s gaze and with a face full of bewilderment, he replies: “really?”

Frederick pats Will’s file and beams, “yes, every serial killer you found and every victim you saved earned you quite a lot of points, Will. You should be proud of your work on Earth.”

He’s silent for a moment, taking in the fact that his work at the FBI was at least worthwhile despite it causing a multitude of mental health issues, “so, how did I die? I don’t even remember…”

“Yes, we erase violent death memories so that there is a peaceful transition. Would you like to know how you died?”

Will nods.

Frederick continues, reading from the file, “you came across a cannibal serial killer who had killed his wife and daughter before you showed up. The uhh...'Minnesota Shrike' as he was nicknamed on Earth. Garret Jacob Hobbs was his real name. He snuck up on you and slit your throat.” Frederick pauses, gauging Will’s reaction to see if he should continue or not, “you bled out quite quickly and while your partner tried to save your life. You didn’t make it, of course.”

“But did she?’

“Who?”

“My partner, Miriam Lass?’

Frederick nods, “she’s fine. She’s still on Earth continuing your life’s work.” He stands up then and gestures for Will to follow him, “please, I’ll give you a tour and introduce you to your soul mate.”

He gave Will the tour of the Good Place, showing off all the various shops and stores that the residents can purchase things from, although purchase wasn’t exactly the correct term for it given everything was free. “Beverly,” Frederick states.

Suddenly, with a computer beep, Beverly appears with a smile on her face. “This is Beverly, anything you want to ask or need and Beverly will provide it for you. Please, I must give my last tour of the day, I’ll let Beverly give you the rest of your tour.”

Will watches as Frederick walks away, disappearing into the crowd in the town plaza. He looks Beverly over, “so I can just ask for anything?”

“Yes, there’s very few things that I can’t provide for you here in the Good Place.”

“I’d like to know where my dogs are…”

“Your dogs are still on Earth, but once they pass away they can join you here in the Good Place.”

Heaven truly wasn’t heaven without dogs, Will sighs and looks around, “well, are there dogs here? I can’t imagine heaven not having dogs.”

Beverly pulls out a large dog from behind her back, she doesn't even struggle with the weight as she holds an almost 60 pound husky, “all the dogs that you had that have passed away will be able to rejoin you.”

"Baker!" Will grins and Beverly puts Baker down. Baker excitedly jumps up on Will, allowing his old master to pet him. This is indeed the Good Place, Will thinks, smiling as he thinks about all the dogs he had lost over the years and the prospect of rejoining them all.

Not wanting to overwhelm himself just yet, he allows Beverly to bring back five more dogs, various sizes and breeds and mutts, most from his childhood. It’s a perfect start to his own heaven as he follows Beverly down a path and towards an isolated cabin in the woods.

The cabin is beautiful, big enough not to feel claustrophobic but tiny enough not to get lost in. The perfect size. It’s surrounded by a river and plenty of trees, just what he needed. “Are there fish in the river? I like to fish.”

“There are. There’s no need to eat here in the Good Place but our residents are fond of the memories of food. That and sleep. You don’t need to sleep either but humans seem to enjoy eight hours of being in a void so you may sleep and eat whenever you wish.”

Will nods, learning more and more about the rules in the Good Place. “Thanks Bev.”

“No problem,” she disappears suddenly, leaving Will and his dogs alone.

He knocks on the cabin door and peers inside, his soulmate is already there and Frederick is there finishing the last of his tour.

His soulmate, a man, was not what he expected. Sure, he’s dated a guy here and there with his time on Earth but he never had any sort of serious relationship. Then again, he’s never had any sort of serious relationship with a woman either. The night sweats were a problem in bed, the lack of eye contact another.

Finding out that Hannibal was here by mistake was a sort of relief, the way Hannibal carried himself with the fancy suit and just his general demeanor was way too much. Will wonders if he even had a soul mate, all he needed was a hoard of dogs, an engine to work on, and a few drinks of whiskey and he was set. Solitude was not a problem for him.

As he watches Baker drool and leave fur all over Hannibal's three piece suit, Will states to the thin air: “Beverly.”

“Yes,” she pops in.

“Could we get a guest bedroom in this cabin?”

Beverly nods, “of course.”

Orientation, as they sat there in the simulated sun, was enlightening. Frederick explained everything to them that he didn't cover in the tour, how the point system worked in detail and what to expect in the Good Place.

They all mingled for a little while, introducing themselves to others - or at least Hannibal did. Will just silently stood next to him, wordlessly avoiding the others. Much to his displeasure, there was a welcome party being thrown at another resident's home.

The party was in Alana’s mansion, her idea of heaven was matched more closely to Hannibal’s than Will’s. As Hannibal wanders inside, with Will’s arm tucked inside his, he wonders why in the world a crappy cabin in isolated woods would be preferable to this.

At least Will looks nice, at Hannibal’s insistence that he chose his clothes, which Beverly helped to provide. His hair, previously untamed, has been groomed back. His curls neatly brushed and styled. The man was pleasing on the eye, however without any knowledge of his supposed soul-mate nor much acquaintance, it was hard not to think of Will as anything more than prospective dinner.

Beverly passes by with a tray full of champagne flutes, offering Hannibal and Will one as the other party-goers converse. Hannibal takes one, sipping on it and notices Will immediately throwing his back and grabbing another.

“You’re not pleased to be here?”

Will looks around, taking in how many people are here in Alana’s home, if he didn’t like socializing on Earth he still doesn’t like to socialize in the afterlife, “I’m not great with…talking,” he gestures to everyone around them.

“Then I will be the barrier between you and everyone else.”

“Why? It’s pretty clear you don’t like me either.”

Hannibal adjusts himself, was he being that obvious about disliking Will’s entire personality? “I apologize, it is an awkward position to be in to pretend that I am in love with someone that I’m not.”

Will laughs, “yeah, I’m not even sure why I’m going along with this. We should just tell Frederick, it’s probably a test. You’ll pass if you tell the truth, fail if you don’t sort of thing.”

“I’m not willing to risk eternal damnation on a possible test,” Hannibal replies. He looks Will over, wanting to change the subject, “what did you do on Earth?”

“I was an FBI special agent.”

“Special?”

He shrugs, taking another swig of the champagne and grimaces as it goes down, “in simple terms, I was unstable. Didn’t pass their tests. I just consulted.”

Oh, now Will is a little bit more interesting. Hannibal’s eyebrows rise, only a little, in intrigue, “and what sort of consulting was it for?”

“Serial killers.”

Oh.

 _Oh._ Very interesting now.

Hannibal takes Will by the arm, into a more vacant area of Alana’s mansion. He takes another flute of champagne for Will and places it into his hands, taking the empty one and giving it to Beverly as she passes by with a smile.

Will looks down at the champagne that Hannibal gave him and then to Hannibal’s own, “I’m on my third one and you’re still on your first. God, I’m sorry. These sort of events make me antsy. I’ll just enjoy it more if I just can’t remember it the next day.”

Politely, he smiles, and wants to learn more about Will’s time in the FBI. If he’s ever consulted on his own art, “any serial killers I would know that you worked on?”

“Depends, where are you from? I can’t imagine, with your accent, that you’d care much about American serial killers.”

“I’m from Baltimore, Maryland. However, regarding the accent, I was born in Lithuania and raised in France.”

“Ah,” Will replies, circling the alcohol in the glass, trying not to drink it but instead just fidgeting with it, “Higher profile cases that made national news were, the Catgut Killer, the Chesapeake Ripper, and the Minnesota Shrike. The latter is the one who killed me and why I’m here.”

Such a shame that it was the Minnesota Shrike that ended Will’s life and not himself, Hannibal tries to hide a smile regarding Will consulting on his artworks, “I’ve only heard of one of those, I suppose because he’s been active for so long. The Chesapeake Ripper, correct? He’s been killing for over ten years.”

“Yeah, though he goes inactive for a little while.” Will pauses, his eyebrows tense, “I just realized I’m allowed to talk about this sort of stuff with civilians now. I had to keep some things top secret, you know? But who’s gonna rat me out up here.”

“Top secret?”

He nods, “I mean, not really top secret, just so the media doesn’t know sort of thing. The media finds out certain things and the entire case can be compromised.”

“Then share, what’s the ‘top secret’ you have about the Chesapeake Ripper?”

Will smiles, thinking it over, the alcohol causing a lovely flush on his cheeks, “the man is a cannibal.” Will takes a sip and laughs, “so ‘top secret’, it isn’t. But, we kept it to ourselves since we didn’t want the media to have a field day with two active cannibals at once. The Minnesota Shrike was enough on that end.”

Interested, Hannibal turns his body towards Will, practically blocking him away from the others. The entire move seemed greedy, wanting to hide Will away and keep him for himself, “how did you know he ate his victims?”

“One of the sounders – he kills in threes and then its silence – he took various organs that aren’t suitable for organ transplants. But they are offal, used in things like sausages and such,” Will explains, leaning his head back against the wall, “I’m so glad we can still get drunk even in the afterlife.”

There’s the click of high heels approaching and both Hannibal and Will turn to look at Alana. Beautiful in a dark red dress, next to her is her soulmate Jack Crawford. “How are you two doing?” Alana asks, “enjoying the party?”

“We are, thank you Ms. Bloom," Hannibal responds.

“Please, just Alana up here.” She turns to Jack, “and this is Jack.” Her voice is short and clip, it’s clear that she isn’t interested in Jack, and Jack isn’t interested in her. Will didn’t need to be an empath to know that these two weren’t exactly getting along either.

Jack offers his hand, Will and Hannibal taking turns to shake and introduce themselves. “And what did you two do while on Earth?”

“I was a therapist, although towards the end I just managed my wife’s estate.” She’s tense on the word ‘wife’ and that explains it, she passed away and her wife was still on Earth. No wonder she didn’t want anything to do with her apparent soulmate.

“And I was a police chief in Virginia,” Jack briefly states, “leaving behind a wife as well.”

The tension between the four of the was palpable at this point, and Hannibal chimes in, breaking the awkward silence, “it must be difficult to leave behind loved ones on Earth, finding yourself in a new situation with a new person you don’t know. Forced together by supernatural circumstances.”

“A bit,” Alana laughs, she looks at Jack her smile only faltering a bit, “Frederick explained that getting used to your soul-mate can be a bit rough for a little while. Especially in our situations where we were both happily married.” She pauses for a moment, “were you two married as well?’

Will snorts, taking another large gulp of champagne, “no.”

“I was a bachelor on Earth,” Hannibal replies. “My soulmate and I are still adjusting as well, however. I’m sure it is an awkward situation for most. You’ll adjust.”

“Hopefully,” Jack replies. He softly nudges Alana, “it was nice to meet you two, we have many more to greet before this party ends. We’ll talk to you soon.”

“Good bye, enjoy the rest of the party,” Alana says, joining Jack to greet another pair of soulmates down the hallway.

“Oh god, that was so awkward,” Will says, his head back against the wall and his eyes closed, “I don’t know how people do it.”

Hannibal laughs and looks Will over, “patience and practice. I was not much of a conversationalist in my youth, but one does adjust.”

“I don’t easily adjust.”

“You have eternity here, in the Good Place, I’m sure you’ll adapt.”

Will opens one of his eyes and looks at Hannibal, “adapt. Like I’m forced to survive here,” he laughs. “I could spend eternity with just me and my dogs.”

“Even as a social recluse, you must eventually get bored of that.”

He shrugs in response, “I suppose, I always had to work you know. Keep up appearances. That forced me out, I never had the chance to just lie low and not talk to anyone. Maybe you’re right, I’d get sick of it eventually. Forever is a long time.”

After the party, Hannibal and Will return to their cabin. It's dark out, much darker with the thick canopy of forest surrounding them. The dogs begin to bark as they approach, jumping onto them both in an overabundance of glee to see the two return home. "Down, come on. Get down. Sorry about that," Will says, trying to corral the dogs away from Hannibal.

"If you have to adjust to conversation, then I'm sure I will have to adjust to...your dogs," Hannibal looks them over, "were these your dogs on Earth?"

Will nods, happy to be on a topic that is actually more enjoyable to talk about, "yeah, most of these dogs were from my childhood and then after I got out of the police academy. Meatball over there, the German Shepard, he was a failed police dog. Too friendly, I suppose."

"Then they are your dogs that have passed away. It must be nice, to be reunited with your past." Hannibal briefly thinks about Mischa, and if it was possible to see her in Heaven. Frederick only talked about their specific neighborhood, was it possible to leave and visit another? Mischa would definitely be in a neighborhood suited for children who's lives were ended too early, not one catered for adults.

"I suppose, I had a lot of dogs in my life and I don't want to piss you off any more than these five already are," Will laughs as one of the smaller dogs jump into Hannibal's lap, curling up on his legs. "She likes you."

Hannibal places his hand on her head, scratching behind her ear, "what's her name?"

"Egg."

"You named her Egg?"

"I was nine and she really liked Eggs. My dad didn't care too much to argue on that one."

Silence grows between them, as Will relaxes on the recliner, putting his head back and letting the alcohol lull him to sleep. Hannibal stands up, placing Egg onto the floor. "Get some rest, Will. In that guest bedroom Beverly so kindly gave us..."

"Yeah, I'll move there...eventually...good night," Will mutters out, already half-asleep.

"Good night."

Hannibal climbs upstairs, one of the dogs following him, and finds the master bedroom. It's ugly up here as well, with a thankfully cabin-free painting on the wall, but as he begins to shed off his day clothes and rests on the bed, he hopes that he could see Mischa again. It's Baker, again, who jumps onto him and rests his hairy body on Hannibal as he slowly falls asleep.


	3. No Cussing in Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal meet their new neighbors, Jimmy and Brian who are well-matched soulmates and have a thing for cheesy noodles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have an ending in mind for this fic so i don't think i will abandon this. its fun to write and pressure free so, please don't worry about this fic being abandoned if u are.
> 
> and if i don't update? yeah just yell at me and guilt-trip me. beat me up. that sort of thing, you know the deal.
> 
> also i might change this to an M rated fic, im not the best smut writer but like, it may happen depending if i get into the groove, i'll warn in advanced if i do in case you don't care for porn....

The refrigerator is stocked with a wide range of fresh fruits and vegetables, even a large selection of meats. There is, however, a meat that is severely lacking in the fridge. Even if humans were kill-able up here, Hannibal thinks, a trail of dead bodies in a community of only around 300 people and the fact that he’s currently living with a former FBI profiler…there is going to be no cannibalism in the near future.

Hannibal lets out a soft sigh as he takes a carton of eggs and some sausage, quickly getting into the groove of cooking once again. It’s once the sausage begins to brown that the thought occurs to him: Beverly.

“Beverly,” Hannibal states into the thin air.

She appears suddenly, at Hannibal’s side, “yes?”

“I’m curious, are the requests we make to you anonymous?”

Beverly nods, “completely. There’s absolutely no record of what you request from me. What sort of sex toys would you like?”

A moment of awkward silence grows between them, that was not what Hannibal wanted at all…at least right now, “nothing of the sort. There is a certain meat that I am missing, one I am quite fond of. I was wondering if you could possibly procure some.”

“What sort of meat are you missing?”

“Human.”

Beverly stares at Hannibal and Hannibal stares back at her, wondering if the robot? Computer? Whatever she was, malfunctioned. “I’m sorry, I can’t retrieve that sort of meat.”

Hannibal begins to scramble some eggs, turning to keep an eye on the sausage, “who can?”

“The Bad Beverly in the Bad Place is the only one who can retrieve human meat. However, convincing her to do anything is a task in itself. Even the demons have a hard time getting anything from her.”

“Demons?”

“Yes, that is what humans call them. However, they call each other,” a loud inhuman guttural sound escapes from Beverly, taking Hannibal by surprise, “but humans have a hard time saying that. So ‘demons’ it is.”

At that moment, Will stumbles in with half-lidded eyes still puffy from sleep, “good morning.” Will states as he passes Beverly and goes directly to the coffee maker.

Hannibal smiles, “good morning,” and takes in Will’s choice of sleeping clothes. A too-tight white t-shirt and equally too-tight grey boxers. It’s enough to make Hannibal rethink Beverly’s offer of sex-toys she can procure for them.

“Good morning Will,” Beverly replies, looking way too chipper in the morning.

Will looks over Hannibal next, realizing that Hannibal is also a morning person. Even in a fancy sleeping robe, the man already looks put together. “Why are you two talking about demons at…what time is it?”

“It’s seven fifteen in human time.”

“I was curious about the Bad Place, Beverly you may go.”

“Okay,” she quickly disappears leaving Will and Hannibal alone in the kitchen.

Will lingers around the coffee pot, taking a quick glance at what Hannibal is doing. “You like to cook?”

“Very much so, while I’m sure the food in the Good Place is heavenly I’m still fond of cooking myself. It is relaxing and an art-form many do not take the time to savor.”

The smell of freshly brewed coffee begins to mingle with the scent of freshly cooked sausage and eggs, a much more pleasing scent than Will’s typical Earthly morning routine of shitty instant coffee in a mug and hitting the road without any food in his belly. “I’m not going to rat you out, Hannibal. If that’s why you were asking Beverly about the Bad Place.”

Hannibal begins to split the sausage-egg scramble onto two plates, handing one to Will and then settling himself at the small dining room table. Will joins him a few seconds later, with a cup of coffee in his hands as well.

“I must apologize to you Will,” Hannibal says, placing his fork down and putting his undivided attention on the man beside him.

“Why?”

“Regardless that you don’t wish to ‘rat me out’, I’m sorry for putting you into an awkward situation where you must lie for me.”

He shrugs, avoiding Hannibal’s gaze as he scoops another forkful of scramble into his mouth. “I’m not exactly one to pass judgement.”

“No?” Hannibal asks, “I assumed with your work for the FBI, passing judgement on who and who is not a killer was a major aspect of who you are.”

“I didn’t pass judgement. I read the evidence, profiled them, and if they matched then they matched. Judgement is an opinion, I didn’t arrest on opinion. I arrested people on facts.”

“Then what of your facts about me?”

Will thinks it over for a moment, tapping his fork against the plate, “Not enough facts to give you up to Frederick and damn you for eternity in Hell.” He motions towards the food on his plate, “even if you do belong in the Bad Place, this food is certainly making up for it.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Thank you,” Hannibal smiles, “then I hope you won’t mind another request.”

Will groans, stabbing a piece of sausage, “you’re pushing it.”

“I had a sister. She passed away when she was very young, so young that I’m sure she is here in the Good Place.”

“You want to visit her,” he looks up at Hannibal, mid-chew as he looks the man over, his empathy slowly absorbing and mirroring the other, “what was her name?”

“Mischa,” he replies, dabbing his mouth with a napkin, “if my file was accidentally swapped out with another person, then they may not have record of me having a sister. Asking to see Mischa could potentially place me in Hell, never giving me the chance to see her.”

A frown forms on Will’s face, taking a sip of coffee, he thinks it over, “I’m not sure how I can help you with that, Hannibal.”

“Ask Beverly or Frederick if it is possible for you to visit any of your relatives. After learning how the system works, I can formulate a plan from there and try and see Mischa without the two.”

Will laughs, a rough and course one without much humor in it, “yeah, I doubt I have any relatives I would want to see here.”

“Your mother? Father?”

“As far as I know my father is still alive, although he could die of liver issues at any moment. For my mother, I never knew her, she abandoned me when I was an infant, so I doubt that she’s here if she is no longer alive.”

There is a knock on the door before Hannibal can question Will about his past. Rising from the dining room table, Hannibal opens the wooden cabin door to find an extremely cheery couple on the other end.

One of them is holding a horrible looking casserole dish in their hands, they put it forward into Hannibal’s personal space with a too-large grin on their face, “Hello new neighbors!” He exclaims. “I’m Jimmy.”

“I’m Brian,” the other adds.

Hannibal slowly takes the casserole dish into his hands, trying his best not to show disgust at what looks like congealed cheddar cheese and broccoli on some hardened egg noodles, “thank you. My name is Dr. Hannibal Lecter.”

“Oh gosh, first name basis here, please!” Jimmy exclaims, practically invading Hannibal and Will’s cabin without permission. At this moment, Hannibal desperately wished he had a knife in his hands, so he could slit his neighbor’s throats. Instead, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe, trying to calm himself. Like a moth to a light, Jimmy goes up to Will next and shakes his hand, “And you must be Will.”

“Yeah, I’m Will.” Will then shakes Brian’s hands next and motions for them to sit on the dog-hair covered sofa, “please, make yourselves at home. Coffee?”

Brian and Jimmy sit down on the sofa together and practically at the same time they both respond: “please, thank you.”

Hannibal joins Will into the kitchen, sliding the casserole (that he fully and completely intends to dump into the trash when Jimmy and Brian leaves) into the fridge and joins Will’s side at the coffee pot, watching the man pour two cups of coffee, “I don’t need to be an empath to know you’re extremely annoyed right now, Hannibal,” Will replies softly so that only Hannibal could hear. “Your facial expressions are not as controlled as you think they are.”

Taken aback at Will’s statement, Hannibal looks Will over, “forgive me for being slightly taken aback at their intrusion.”

Will smiles, a small laugh escaping, “I assume you’re unreadable to most people, most of the time, but I saw it at Alana’s party too.”

“What did you see?” Hannibal asks, his voice interested and a low whisper. Brian and Jimmy to occupied with each other to really listen to their conversation in the nearby kitchen.

“It’s really the only fact I have about you,” Will replies, “you’re hiding in plain sight. You’re very good at it, except for right now of course.”

Hannibal smiles, a genuine one, and takes the coffee cups and leaves Will in the kitchen and rejoins Jimmy and Brian in the living room.

He hands them their cups of coffee as Will excuses himself to the guest bedroom to get dressed, “ah, a guest bedroom still.” Jimmy notices it.

“I know some soulmates have an adjustment period, so that guestroom won’t be of much use very longer,” Brian adds on, winking at Hannibal.

“I don’t wish to intrude on Will’s personal space, we are still strangers to each other after all. Soulmates or not.”

“True, but when I saw Brian for the first time I just knew he was the one,” Jimmy slowly sips on the coffee, smiling up at his soulmate who is doing the same.

Hannibal leans back in the recliner, taking in the two unwanted guests, “thank you for the casserole.” He lies, taking Will’s advice and tries his best to make it sound more sincere.

Jimmy lights up at that, “oh you’re welcome! It’s my mom’s old recipe, cheesy noodles with broccoli. Loved it as a kid. I have plenty more if you ever need more!”

Luckily, Will comes in at that moment so he doesn’t have to lie through his teeth about enjoying Jimmy’s cheesy noodles, he’s dressed much like he was dressed yesterday. Flannel and denim. That will have to go at some point, Hannibal thinks, the suit at Alana’s party flattered Will much more than the plaid he is currently wearing. To keep up appearances, Will sits beside Hannibal on the recliner’s arm rest, then places his arm around Hannibal. To anyone, particularly Jimmy and Brian, they would look like two lovers, but Hannibal could sense Will’s tension.

“We wanted to personally invite you two to Jimmy’s birthday party this weekend,” Brian says, breaking the silence. “It will be this Saturday, starting at five P.M.”

“You died near your own birthday?” Will asks, looking at Jimmy’s ear instead of his eyes.

“Oh, I died _on_ my birthday, what a coincidence huh! We just wanted to wait till this weekend to throw it, given that everybody is still adjusting to the afterlife.”

Hannibal places his hand onto Will’s hands, letting his fingers intermingle with Will’s. If they are going to pretend to be soulmates warming up to each other, then why not. “Should we bring anything?”

“Just yourselves,” Brian smiles, “when we got Beverly here in the Good Place, why bother with presents.”

“Oh, I still want presents though. It’s not a birthday party without presents,” Jimmy adds.

“Well, we’ll just ask Beverly to wrap up the things you want so you can open it.”

That seems to work, and Jimmy is smiling again, proud to be the soulmate of someone who understands him so well, “we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone then. We got over one hundred and fifty houses to go!”

They both set down their coffee mugs onto the table, and Will escorts them out. Closing the door, Will lets out a sigh, and leans his head against the wooden frame, “my sort of heaven involves being alone but it’s party after party up here.”

“We are opposites then, parties are my specialty. However, I’m not sure that Brian and Jimmy’s sort of party is the sort that I specialize in.”

Will tries to relax, letting a small smile form on his face, “what sort of parties do you specialize in?”

“Dinner parties,” Hannibal responds, picking up the coffee mugs from the table and placing them into the kitchen sink to wash, “the extravagant sort, five course meals, and elegant dresswear.”

“Sounds like Hell to me,” Will replies, “no offense.”

“None taken, however if I do decide to throw a dinner party I do wish you will be by my side.”

He strolls to the kitchen, settling next to Hannibal, picks up a cotton towel, and begins to dry the dishes that Hannibal washes, “if we’re to keep up the pretense that you actually belong here and that we’re soulmates, then I will be.” Will places a plate back into the cabinet, “on the topic of your sister, I’ll ask Beverly if any of my relatives are here. I may not love my family but you clearly love your sister, not sure I would belong up here if I didn’t help you two reunite.”

 “Thank you Will,” Hannibal smiles, looking the man over, “you said you are an empath. Self-diagnosed?”

“Wish I could self-diagnose myself as normal,” Will frowns, annoyed at his own mind, “psychiatric circles wouldn’t leave me alone. They found what I did to be unique, one that deserved heavy research.”

“And what did you do?”

Will smirks, “I’m sure you’d love to know. _Doctor_ Hannibal Lecter.”

“Consider it a post-humous examination, then. No harm in the after-life to have therapy.”

“I’m dead and you want to be my therapist, Hannibal?”

Hannibal nods, “or friends. God forbid we socialize like adults.”

“Friends then, I hated therapy while I was alive and I sure as shirt wouldn’t like it now…shirt…why can’t I say shirt…” Bewildered, Will stares at Hannibal, “you know I’m trying to say shirt right?”

“Shirt…” Hannibal smiles, amused, “I suppose there is no cussing allowed in Heaven and they have censored certain words.”

“Ah, shirt.”


	4. A Cheese Fondue Fountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal attend Brian and Jimmy's birthday party. This chapter sponsored by Tyson's Shitty Frozen Chicken Strips. With Real (is it?) Chicken!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chicken is really chicken. hannibal has got to be going through human flesh withdrawals soon.....

While Alana’s welcome-to-Heaven party was elegant and beautiful, the sort of party that Hannibal used to attend on Earth, Brian and Jimmy’s party was more along the lines of a Fourth of July pool party and a drunken frat party that had a mutant baby.

There is a bouncy house and a rather large swimming pool in the distance as Hannibal stands next to a few other party-goers, practically shoving their hands into questionable chips and even more questionable dips.

Will approaches Hannibal, taking note of his obvious distaste of a cheese fondue fountain and chicken strips laid out on a table, “the chicken strips aren’t that bad,” Will says, plucking one of the strips and taking a bite out of it. “At least there’s no flies out here. The Good Place has that going for it…”

“I would rather gnaw off my own foot than eat _that_ ,” Hannibal replies. As much as Will interested him, both in his capability to empathize with anyone, so much so that he has noticed Will slipping into Hannibal’s own cadence before shredding it when he’s talking to another person and adapting to them, and the fact that Will has worked for the FBI to examine Hannibal’s own kills, Will was interesting. His taste in food, however, was not.

Will scoffs, “have you ever tried a chicken strip? Or do you need a five-course meal, your highness?” He offers a bite of the chicken strip to Hannibal, “here, come on. You’re in heaven for eternity, at least try some crappy chicken strips.”

Hesitation, and then, Hannibal takes a bite of the offered chicken strip, allowing his not(?)soul-mate to hand feed him a piece of fried breaded chicken, “it’s a little dry.”

“Yeah, a bit,” Will replies, taking another bit, “I think…they taste like Tyson chicken strips. I’m in heaven and eating crappy processed Tyson chicken strips.” He exhales and then forces a smile on his face when Jimmy approaches. Hannibal forces a smile, wrapping his arm around Will, the image of a happy couple to everyone else at the party.

“You two enjoying yourselves?”

“Yes, fantastic party Jimmy! The food is great,” Will replies. Hannibal nods, unable to force himself to agree any further about the food.

Jimmy pats Will on the shoulder and Hannibal could feel Will flinching from the sudden contact of a person that he hardly knows, “great, great. Enjoy some of that cake too, Beverly made it special.” He laughs, a good hearty and too-enthusiastic laugh, “I’m just kidding, Beverly makes everything, nothing is really special!” With that, Jimmy disappears as quickly as he appeared, turning his attention to another couple lounging near the Olympic sized pool.

“That man is way too…happy,” Will muses. “I was fearing that he was going to ask us to jump into that bouncy house with him. He’s like what? Fifty? Who has a forking bouncy house at fifty.”

Hannibal releases his arm from Will, “perhaps he has some childhood dreams he never had fulfilled. One can have everything here, I suppose he wanted,” Hannibal looks at the bouncy house in the distance, a rainbow colored castle, “that…” He watches as Will takes another chicken strip from the table, when he spots Beverly (who currently has a birthday balloon tied around her wrist) and Frederick standing to the side of the party, happily watching the residents of the neighborhood that Frederick built. “Are you still interested in helping me locate my sister?”

Setting the chicken strip down onto a napkin, Will looks up and follows Hannibal’s gaze, spotting Frederick and Beverly near the pony-rides, “yeah. Come on.” Unsure of who took each other’s hand first, Hannibal was taken alongside Will, hands clasped together, as they approached Frederick and Beverly. Looking to the side of the two, Will starts: “Frederick, I hope you’re enjoying this neighborhood you built. It’s nice.” 

“Ah! Thank you Will!” Frederick looks down and notices Will and Hannibal holding hands, “so nice to see you two getting along. I told you, it took a little while for some soul-mates to click, and you two look like you’re clicking.”

Ignoring the suggestive comment, Will replies, “I was wondering about how seeing…other dead relatives works here.”

“Oh?” Frederick pauses, his smile faltering a bit, “who is it that you wanted to see?”

“My mother, that is, if she’s dead.”

Beverly chimes in on that, “Linda Graham passed away in 1998 through lung cancer, she’s in the Bad Place.”

Unsettled, Will looks at Beverly and quickly looks away, “what did she do to deserve to be there?”

“Abandoning a child, merging into the fast line and then driving slower than the person they were behind causing several traffic jams, and adultery.”

Frederick pats Beverly on the shoulder, “please, Beverly. Let me. Will, your mother is in the Bad Place, and she abandoned you when you were such a small child. Do you still wish to see her?”

He nods, deep inside he does wish to ask why his mother left him and his father, although the adultery comment that Beverly made seemed to be all the explanation he needed, “yes. I’d like to meet her.”

“Great! Listen, Will, I know it may be tough to meet your mom knowing that she was,” he points to the ground, “down there, but we’ll bring her up here for a day so that you two can chat and hash it out to your hearts content. Get that closure you’ve always wanted.”

Silent this entire time, Hannibal finally speaks up then: “I’m curious to know, how do you bring others to this neighborhood?”

“By train of course,” Frederick smiles, “please, excuse me. I’ll go put in that request for you now, Will. Enjoy the party you two!”

“Would you like to know if anyone else is in the Bad Place or the Good Place?” Beverly asks, unprompted, trying to fill the silence where Frederick once was.

“My mother and father,” Hannibal asks, avoiding any names or people that could give away the incorrect file information.

Beverly nods, “yes, Martha Lecter is in the Bad Place for grand larceny and purposely running over birds in the road. Richard Lecter is in the Good Place, having started a charity for A Cure for Cancer in Street Cats. He was a good man.”

“Thank you, Beverly,” he replies, annoyed that even his parental information in the file of his was wrong. They definitely did not have record of Mischa then.

“No problem,” she smiles, looking off into the party again.

With that in mind, the two find an area inside Brian and Jimmy’s house that is isolated, most of the people were outside enjoying the different activities they had in the large expanse of a lawn. “That was not my parents’ names.” Hannibal lets his displeasure show, now that he is only in front of Will Graham. No use in hiding that when Will would see right through the mask.

“When we find out how they bring my mom here, we can try and use that to get to the neighborhood your sister is in. Finding that out is going to be tougher…they don’t exactly have phone books or Google up here.”

Hannibal nods, Beverly would be the closet thing to Google, except asking her could potentially lead to that information reaching Frederick instead of data-hungry companies desperate to sell products depending on search-data. “Your mother abandoned you?” He asks, wanting to change the subject and learn more about the other man.

“When I was four? I think? I don’t remember,” he replies.

“This would be a chance to ask her why she abandoned you, I assume you had wondered where she went all those years you spent with your father.”

Will shrugs, “I mean, yeah, I was curious when I was a kid. The older I got the less I thought about it. She cheated on my dad, according to Bev, so that’s probably what did it.”

Hannibal opens his mouth, about to reply, when Alana storms down the hallway – stopping only when she spots Will and Hannibal staring at her, “Alana, is there something wrong?” Hannibal asks, his voice calm and collected, but curious.

Unsure if she should tell the two men she barely knows, she hesitates, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone else was down here.”

“You and Jack had an argument,” Will says, pulling Hannibal’s attention back towards the empath, “I know you two aren’t…getting along. The whole soul-mate thing.”

Alana nods, biting her lip, “it’s just, I’m married still. I know it was only up to death do us part, but to me, I’m still Alana Verger. My wife is on Earth and my child is too. How am I suppose to adjust to…someone I barely met. We have absolutely no shared interests or hobbies.”

“I understand,” Hannibal stands next to her so that his frame isn’t intimidating his voice low and soft, full of understanding and sympathy - although Will sees right through it, “Will and I are hardly alike at all, we are having trouble adjusting ourselves. However, I cannot begin to understand your pain of your marriage being left on Earth, while you are here.” He pauses, watching as Alana nods and keeping tears from falling down her cheeks. “You and Jack were both married on Earth, perhaps that could be a jumping point for you two to share a part of yourselves.”

She sighs at that, tipping her head back as she stares up at the ceiling, “you’re right. I’m not the only one who has left behind a wife. I don’t think I have asked Jack what his wife was like once since we’ve gotten here.”

Hannibal softly squeezes her shoulders in an encouraging way, “take a moment to yourself, Alana. Jack will be there when you want to talk to him again.”

“Thank you, Hannibal, Will,” she smiles at them both and leaves the hallway, Jack soon after, however he just gives them a silent nod before leaving Will and Hannibal to themselves again.

“’Hardly alike at all’,” Will mimics the exact cadence of Hannibal’s voice, almost mocking.

Turning his attention back to the empath, Hannibal takes Will in, reading his posture and expression. He’s not mocking him, Will is simply taking in what Hannibal said and examining it. “You forced me to eat chicken strips.  You mocking or not, I do see the appeal of a good three-course meal than processed chicken that has been frozen and fried up. We are very different, it does not take much observation to see this.”

“And yet you are intrigued by me,” Will replies, staring off into the space where Alana and Jack departed, avoiding Hannibal’s gaze.

“I am.”

He turns to face Hannibal then, “you wear a person-suit, a nice one. If I wasn’t cataloging every micro-expression of yours I think I would have fallen for it myself.” Will pauses for a moment, really looking into Hannibal’s eyes now, “I hated those chicken strips, I only did it to annoy you. See the seams of that suit tested a bit, I know how all of this irritates you.”

“You accomplished that. What did your test conclude?”

“That I like to see the real you, the real emotions behind that façade.”

Hannibal smiles, a real smile, “I will keep that in mind when I am in your presence then.”

There is a moment of calm silence between the two, enjoying the solitude inside the house while everyone else was outside enjoying the lovely weather that is always present in heaven.

“You two wanna join us in the bouncy house?” Brian says, popping into the hallway unannounced.


	5. Mom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will meets his mother that abandoned him when he was a child. Hannibal asks Bad Beverly for human meat.
> 
> **RATING FOR THIS FIC HAS BEEN CHANGED TO MATURE** proceed with caution, thanks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rating for this fic has been moved to a Mature label given,,,,what happens inside this chapter. It's nothing explicit but its not suitable for a T label anymore. i still haven't decided if im going to write smut for this fic, but if i do the rating will change to E, but for now its just going to be an M. NO DOGS WILL EVER DIE IN MY FIC!!!!
> 
> also, for anyone who doesnt read english as their first language the good place replaces cuss words with similar sounding works. "fuck" is fork, "bitch" is bench, "ass" is ash, etc. in case thats confusing, im using more cuss words in this chapter given the stress of will meeting his mom and demons/bad bev from the bad place who love to cuss.

Frederick and Beverly stand next to them as the train slowly enters the station. Anxiety fills Will as he waits beside Hannibal, he has never seen his mother – at least, at an age where it counted to remain in his memories. With no idea what she was like, and the fact that she was in The Bad Place, it didn’t help qualm his anxiety for their first meaning. Sure, he’s faced numerous amount of serial killers, gotten into their heads, and his body and mind practically hums with their personalities reflected in his memories, but its still his mom. And he’s not sure what is unfold in this meeting.

The train comes to a full stop, and the doors swing open. “Hello ash-holes!” A man yells, excitedly jumping out of the train and putting his hands up wide in the air in a grand entrance, “It’s me! Your favorite demon!” He bows, fake and exaggerated, “Matthew Brown reporting for duty.”

“Please, shut it. Where’s Linda?” Frederick asks, approaching him.

“In the caboose,” he winks at his bad joke, “nah, she’s in there. Bad Beverly, bring her out please!”

Bad Beverly pops out of the train next, chewing on some bubble gum and more interested in her cellphone than anything else. Her black leather outfit is a stark contrast to the Good Place Beverly who is wearing bright pastel colored clothing and heels. “Shove it up your ash-hole,” Bad Beverly replies, standing next to Matthew without a care.

“Anthony then,” he yells at the train.

Another male demon pops out then, his hand tugging at a human female as he pulls her out of the train. “Got her,” Anthony replies. Shoving her harshly towards Frederick and Matthew.

Will takes a good look at her now, he has her eyes and her hair but everything else he must have gotten from his father’s side or from his mother’s parents. She’s in her late 50s, having died in 1998, only a bit older than Hannibal – who is standing right beside him. Linda looks at them both, confused, “so which ones mine?” She points at both Hannibal and Will, her southern accent is extremely thick, and even Hannibal had a hard time figuring out what she said with both English not being his first language and a thick accent on top.

“The one with the same hair and eyes as you, you forking dip-shirt,” Matthew points to Will and rolls his eyes, “obviously the cuter younger one.” He then winks at him.

Anthony chimes in, “nah the older one is nicer looking, maybe the Good Place isn’t all that bad,” he looks at Hannibal with a gleam in his eyes.

Disgust over the demons clearly flirting with them rolls over his body, if he could kill them for those comments, he would. But instead, Hannibal just steps forward and motions for Linda to take his arm, “please, Will has waited a long time to meet you.”

“Yeah?” Linda takes Hannibal’s arm and he brings her to Will.

Hannibal notices that Will is avoiding even his mother’s eyes, he moves his attention from Linda to Will: “Your disdain for eye-contacted is noted, Will, however I believe you should at least look into your mother’s eyes.”

Linda scoffs at that, “just like his daddy then, that forker couldn’t meet my eyes either half the time. Not unless he was drunk, that empathy thing. Load of crack that is,” she puts her finger onto her son’s chin and lifts up his face, “you look a lot like him too. Guess you inherited his dumb-ash brain to boot.”

The urge to strangle her takes over Hannibal as he grips her arm a little more tightly. Will speaks up, noticing Hannibal’s tension, “you left when I was a baby.”

“When you were two, I think. I don’t remember,” Linda pulls her arm away from Hannibal’s grip and turns back towards the demons and Frederick, “how long I have up here in Heaven?”

“You have twenty-four hours, Linda,” Frederick replies, “enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Yeah, then you’re all mine again, baby!” Matthew taunts, winking once again. He turns his attention to Frederick, whispering into his ears. Frederick laughs at whatever he just whispered but the humans pay no mind to them.

Linda puts her hands on her hips and motions them forward, “well, show me what I’ve been missing out one while I was being tortured in Hell for god knows how long.”

They take her to one of the frozen yogurt shops on the way back to Will’s cabin, she orders a hodgepodge of random flavors like ‘petting a kitten’ and ‘the feeling of relief after a sneeze’. Will orders a simple chocolate and Hannibal a vanilla with a scoop of ‘seeing a rude person get karma revenge’ as a much needed palate cleanser of being around the disgraceful woman who had somehow birthed such an exquisite thing as Will. For being blood related, the two were hardly alike.

Even when Will began to reflect his mother’s accent, which Hannibal knew was more on Will having a southern accent before shedding it when he lived in Virginia more-so than his empathy disorder, the two were very very different. “I worked for the FBI as a special agent,” he tells his mother, his voice oozing with a long lost cajun accent, as he fiddles around with his scoop of chocolate froyo.

Will disliked frozen yogurt, much like Hannibal did. However his mother loved it, and spent more time talking about the flavor combination than her own son or what happened in her life that led to her being imprisoned in Hell for all eternity, “at least that’s something. Your daddy never did much in life, why I left him. Least you got out.” She says, finally,  moving out of the topic of how she first had froyo in 1992. Linda pauses for a moment and looks both Will and Hannibal over, “they told me why I was in the Bad Place, you know? Child abandonment was the biggest one.”

Her son scoffs, turning his eyes away from her and outside of the window instead, watching the other occupants of the neighborhood carry on the rest of their day.

“I’m sorry, Will.” Linda is silent for another moment and when Will says nothing to either reject or accept her apology, she continues, “I found another man that I loved and he wasn’t all that keen on adopting a kid that wasn’t his. I knew I couldn’t stay with your daddy any longer, he did that…what you’re doing right now. Avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you, Linda,” Will replies, careful to use her actual name than to call her his mother, “if you took a moment to understand my ‘dumb-ash’ brain you’d know I’m absorbing more than I’d forking like to.” He notices his voice is tinged with a cajun accent, and Will pauses to get a handle on it, trying to sound more like he is from the north, “I see more than I’d like to and just looking at you I can see through your bull-shirt.”

“Yeah?” Linda crosses her arms, staring her son in the face, “what do you see then?”

“Someone who left their son to live with their dad who was more of a parent to a whiskey bottle and then is trying to pull some half-ashed apology so that you can try and convince me to ask Frederick for you to stay in heaven. If I accept that apology.”

Linda blinks, settles back, Hannibal can tell that Will was completely spot on with Linda’s motivations. “If you knew what the Bad Place was like, you’d understand why I’d want to try and get the hell out.”

Will mirrors her, crossing his arms, but instead of leaning back he pulls forward, “perhaps that’s the reason why you’re there. You’re more concerned about yourself than the kid you abandoned. I don’t need an empathy disorder to figure out your apology wasn’t sincere. You don’t regret leaving me behind.”

Hannibal takes a scoop of frozen yogurt, watching the soap opera-esque scene unfold before him. Will’s mother says nothing further, avoiding her son’s gaze as she returns to her frozen yogurt. The man beside him, however, doesn’t, and slides the frozen yogurt away from him. “Not hungry, Will?”

“I hate froyo.”

Hannibal politely excuses himself to leave Linda and Will alone to sort things out without his prying eye and intrusion, Will seemed simultaneously tense about Hannibal’s departure but also relieved now that their arguments were more private and between the both of them instead of in front of a man he had only met a week ago.

Alone now, Hannibal returns to the cabin, “Bad Beverly?” he calls to the empty air. Suddenly, Bad Beverly is there, popping her gum and sitting at the kitchen counter, looking down at her cellphone.

“What do you want?” She asks, not even looking up at him. Rude, very rude.

“Beverly informed me that you were the only one that is capable of retrieving an item that she cannot, I was curious to see if you could.”

Bad Beverly scoffs and looks up at Hannibal for the first time, “There’s nothing I can’t retrieve, unlike Good Beverly who has all those Good Place rules and regulations. Fork those.”

“That is good to hear.”

Her gaze returns to her cellphone, “yeah, so I can get it for you, but what’s in it for me?”

“You can get anything you want, and yet you are asking what I can get for you?”

She nods, “yes.”

Hannibal begins to work around in the kitchen, prepping for tonight’s dinner as he slices three chicken breasts into a butterfly fillet, and mixing a marinade together for it, “what can I get you then, Bad Beverly?”

Beverly looks him in the eyes as Hannibal slices open a chicken breast with one stroke, “yeah, can you get me a ‘shove it up your ash, you European dick’?” she rolls her eyes and returns to her cellphone.

“You’re very rude, Bad Beverly,” Hannibal replies cooly, placing the breast into a bag of marinade.

“No shirt, dumb-ash. I don’t retrieve shirt, even for the demons I work for. Why in the world would you think, a dumb-ash human, would be able to get anything out of me. You want something, get it yourself.”

“I’m afraid what I want isn’t attainable here, in the Good Place.”

Bad Beverly laughs, “yeah, what is it then?”

“Human flesh, organs.”

She pinches up her nose, annoyed, and stares at Hannibal, “of course you can get those here. Human-a-plenty even up here in this shirt-hole neighborhood.”

Curious, Hannibal puts all attention on her, “you are saying, humans can still die even up here?”

“No duh? They’re humans still. Like take little ole Linda for example, you kill that bench and she’ll just respawn back in her cell back in the Bad Place. Even up here? Kill one up here and like video game characters they respawn in Frederick’s office. This is all like, information even a baby knows, you’re a forking dumb-ash, you know that right?” She disappears, not even allowing Hannibal to ask any further questions.

Still, what she has told him is enough to work with. Hannibal _can_ kill up here, but with the humans ‘respawning’ after their death, there’s no telling if they have the memory of who killed them. Regardless, it’s a relief to know that human flesh and organs are attainable up here, but a large risk to gaining them in a neighborhood of only around 300 people.

After awkwardly showing Linda around, showing off all the shops and places that the Good Place offers, they return to Will’s cabin for the evening. Hannibal insists on cooking a meal for the two as they settle in the living room that is adjacent to the small kitchen, close enough that he can hear the conversation about Will’s many dogs that are piled on the floor below them.

Hannibal's not-(?)-soulmate picks up a corgi and smiles, “this one is Cooker. That’s Meatball, Egg, Baker, and Noodles.” His dogs were a source of comfort for the empath, and understandably with the stress of his mother being there, he turns his attention towards them.

“They’re all food related,” Linda states, half-sulking still from Will’s blunt read of her this morning.

Will blinks and looks down at all his dogs, “oh, yeah, I guess they are.”

“Were you often hungry as a child, Will? Your childhood dogs all having names related to food could have been an unconscious source of comfort in the face of hunger,” Hannibal inquires, taking out three chicken breasts out of a marinade, and prepping it to go onto the stovetop.

“My dad didn’t usually cook, so I was stuck doing things myself. I had to learn how to cook out of necessity. There was always…food, but not always the sort I wanted to eat or knew how to make.”

Linda stands up then, “if y’all two will excuse me, I’d like to go to bed.”

Reading her, its clear that she isn’t comfortable learning about what her son had to go through as a child, like a coward she’s running yet again from Will instead of being the mother she should be. Unwilling to fight with her anymore, he shows her to his bedroom. “Here,” he says simply. Not even wishing her a good night as he shuts the door behind her and retreats to the kitchen to sit beside Hannibal.

“You hate her,” Hannibal states, such an obvious sentence that he gets a rough laugh out of Will for it.

“Doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface, I hope this is helping you formulate a plan to meet your sister, at least.”

Hannibal nods, “I have a few ideas, I believe I will ask the good Beverly the location of my sister. She mentioned that item requests are anonymous then I will have to assume that information requests are anonymous as well. Then I will have to get access to that train somehow.”

Taking a knife into his hand, Will helps cut up the onions, and stands to the side as he watches Hannibal cook, “what are you making?”

“Pollo a la plancha, grilled chicken with a side of beans and rice. A simple dish, more for your tastes than mine.”

“Well, I appreciate it. Sometimes simplicity is good.”

“I agree, please, sit.” Hannibal says, pouring a glass of whiskey for Will and handing it to him before returning to the stove, “I will bring you a plate when its ready.”

The two eat in silence, a good sort of silence where one doesn’t feel the urge to fill the air with noise just so the awkwardness between them could dissipate. “My mom has my bedroom tonight,” Will finally breaks the silence, more so to approach the topic that the guest bedroom he had asked for on the first night here was currently occupied.

“You could ask Beverly,” Hannibal replies, and after a moment adds on: “or you could share the bed upstairs. It is a king size, and between two adults I believe we are grown enough to put aside the awkward situation of two men sharing a bed.”

“It is still awkward,” Will replies and then hums around the fork as he takes another bite of the moist chicken.

Hannibal nods, “perhaps. I will keep to my side and you to yours.”

Will takes another bite, trying not to blush at the idea of sharing a bed with another grown man, “fine.”

There’s a large gap between the two as they lay as far from each other as possible on the king size bed. Currently staring up at the ceiling of Hannibal’s bedroom, Will can’t help but feel incredibly awkward laying like this. He looks over to Hannibal, who has already situated himself and shut his eyes. Letting out a small groan, Will turns to his side, his back towards Hannibal.

Perhaps he should’ve asked Beverly for a temporary cot, or laid on the sofa. He looks down at the dogs that cover the floor of Hannibal’s bedroom. Hannibal had kicked them out after the first night, desperate to keep his bedroom somewhat dog hair free, but with Will inside there was no chance of keeping them out.

Will smiles at his resting dogs and finally shuts his eyes, letting his body rest after the day he had meeting his mother.

As morning slowly rises in the Good Place, Will finds himself comfortably warm. Not wanting to open up his eyes, he snuggles closer to the source of comfort and warmth, his arms tightening around someone’s body, the scent of their hair filling his lungs as he dozily smiles. His dick is also very interested, not exactly fully hard but not soft either. He adjusts his hips, allowing his still-waking body to enjoy the slight morning wood he is beginning to form. That is, until he remembers where exactly he is, and his eyes shoot open.

Hannibal’s mussed up hair is against his face, the little spoon in the pile of limbs that is their two bodies intertwined in each other in the middle of the king size bed. “You were rather comfortable, I didn’t want to wake you up,” Hannibal says softly.

Will pulls away from the other man, “I’m sorry,” he says, scooting across and back to his own side, trying to will his dick back down, “I’m a restless sleeper, I should’ve known I would’ve moved around.”

“It is not a problem at all, Will, it’s early in the morning still. The sun hasn’t fully risen, you are free to sleep a little while longer while I prep some breakfast for you.” There is a taunting tone to his voice, amused even, Hannibal knew Will has putting his dick up against him. Fuck, Will thinks, awkwardly standing up and adjusting his sleep clothes.

Shaking his head, “I’m not the best cook, but you’ve been cooking nonstop for me this past week. Let me at least make breakfast this time,” he says as he pads out of the bedroom and downstairs. Cooking will kill any remaining arousal he had experienced this morning, definitely.

Hannibal allows him, resting his head back onto the pillow and taking in Will’s scent that was left behind.

As Will descends the stairs, any arousal he had was completely gone as he was reminded of why he was in Hannibal's bed in the first place: his mother. Who is currently standing there, glaring at him, with a knife to Cooker’s throat. “Linda…what are you doing?” He calmly asks, putting his hands up into the air so that his mother doesn’t find him to be a threat and kill his dog.

“When Frederick and those demon forks come here to get me, I need you to forkin’ tell them to let me stay or else I will,” Linda, wild with fear of returning to Hell, pulls the knife closer to Will’s dog, “I know you care about these stupid dogs. Much like your father, so, you do what I say or this corgi is gonna be missing its head.”

“Mom, if you think I’m going to help you get out of hell with you threatening to kill my dog-“

“No, that’s exactly what you’re going to do,” Cooker whines under her grasp, the dog looking between his captor and Will.

A knife from last night is still laying on the kitchen counter, Will keeps his mother’s gaze on him as he slowly walks around to reach it. As Hannibal descends the stairs, his mother is distracted and then stares at the other man for a moment before wildly turning her attention back to her son. Shocked at the turn of events, Hannibal just stands there, curious to find out what will happen next.

During that moment of distraction, Will grabbed the knife and tucked it hidden into his night-shirt. Carefully, he approaches his mother, “Mom, I know you’re scared,” he softly says, coming closer and closer to her, “but wanting to get out of hell means you have to be deserving to get out of there. Killing my dog isn’t going to make you deserving of escape, it’s just going to damn you further,” Will touches her arm, softly tugging the knife away from Cooker’s throat.

It seems to almost work, as Linda’s eyes meet up with her sons, but in a flash, she moves the knife back up to hurt the corgi and - quicker than she was - a blade slashes across her throat.

Cooker escapes her arms as his mother falls to the ground, holding her neck that is gushing out blood at every beat of her heart. Will, wide-eyed and still holding the bloody knife, stares down at his dying mother.

The corgi runs up to Hannibal, who allows the small dog to jump into the comfort of his arms after a close-call with death.

When the light leaves her eyes and she stills, it hits Will then. “Oh fork,” he numbly states in wide-eyed shock.

Hannibal, looking upon Will with his mother’s blood that has splattered his face in a beautiful macabre paint, smiles.

This man was _definitely_ his soul-mate.


	6. A Brand New Kill-Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal requests a basement to hide Linda's body in while Will gets the revelation that he's now roomies with a serial killer. Oh my.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im still taking suggestions btw! for things you'd like to see. this fic is 10000% self-indulgent so don't be afraid to comment what you'd like to see. i'll try and work them in somewhere!!!

He didn’t freak out.

A little shaky from the immediate aftermath. But, Will seemed to have absorbed Hannibal’s calmness as Hannibal rests his palms on Will’s shoulders, looking into his eyes. Hannibal smiles when Will stares back, cool and collected.

For murdering someone for the first time, Will is frighteningly calm. And Hannibal could now see how far Will’s pure empathy extended too as he reflected Hannibal back. “Are you with me, Will?”

“Yes,” Will replies, only now breaking eye contact with Hannibal. “I don’t know…” he looks away, noticing all his dogs are now surrounding him.

“You need to take a shower, burn these clothes in the fireplace, I’ll handle,” he looks down at the bloody mess on the cabin rug, “your mother.” He does as he’s told, leaving Hannibal alone with the dead body as Will goes up stairs to take a shower. Once he hears the water start, Hannibal opens the front door and closes it behind him so she couldn't see the dead body currently laying in a puddle of blood inside, “Beverly?”

“Yes!”

“I’ll need a basement, with a large freezer, and only I can have the key to the basement.”

Immediately Beverly holds out a key with a smile, “here you go. Where do you want the door to the basement?”

“Near the kitchen would be fine, thank you Beverly.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles and disappears.

Back inside, Hannibal lifts Linda up onto his shoulder and takes her down in the basement. As requested, a large freezer is situated in the corner. Large enough to fit her corpse.

The dead body of Will’s mother is shoved and stuffed into it, he’ll have to take cuts of that later. But first, he needed to figure out how to explain her away. Frederick and the demons would be here in – Hannibal looks down at his watch – four more hours.

Calmly, he locks the basement door behind him and moves onto the bloodied rug on the living room floor. He folds it up as tiny as he can and shoves it on top of the fire, letting the flames eat away the evidence. The next is the knife, cleaned and placed back into the knife block.

Will is back downstairs when the last of the evidence is cleaned up, and Will looks around shocked, “you’ve done this before.”

There’s no way out of this one, Will has seen and reflected too much, “many times.” They are both quiet for a moment, Will keeping his distance from him, his wet curls from the shower beginning to dry. “You killed for your dog. You could have disarmed her, given your training, but you didn’t.”

Will’s face scrunches up, “there was a lot going on at once, I don’t know what happened, I just reacted.”

“You, or one of the several serial killers you’ve shared a mind with due to your empathy?’

He shrugs, unsure of the answer. Sure, he could blame his work in the FBI, too many serial killers lodged into his brain, but he was the one who slit his own mother’s throat. He’s the one currently standing there, fully aware of what he has done, and isn’t _freaking out._

“What about you, Hannibal?” Will challenges, changing the topic back to him, “why have you killed for?”

“Many reasons, ones that I will tell you after we are out of the clear. Frederick will be here soon, ready to take your mother back to Hell.”

Will pinches his eyes shut, “oh shirt, yeah…I don’t know, I didn’t even know people could die up here.”

“Beverly shared some information about that, well, Bad Beverly did.” Hannibal walks around the sofa, coming closer to Will. The other man allows him, although his muscles stiffen up, “your mother ‘respawned’ back in Hell after you killed her. Apparently, we are all capable of dying up here, except as Bad Beverly put it we’re ‘like video games’. Either one of us dies we’ll restart in Frederick’s office like when we first arrived.”

Thinking, Will tries to think of a way to explain his mother’s disappearance, working in the information that Hannibal had just shared, “they knew she would want to try and escape Hell.”

Intrigued, Hannibal nods, “you believe this was planned?”

“Kind of? I guess…a human who’s been down there for twenty years would willingly go back? Doubt it, they would expect her to try and escape.”

“What are you thinking of Will?”

“The train, we get the train to depart the station without the demons on it to make it look like Linda escaped,” he smiles at the plan, and then, “Beverly.”

She pops in suddenly, “Yes?”

 

* * *

 

The train station is expectedly empty, no sight of any humans, demons, or whatever Frederick and Beverly are, as they make their way on board. “So how does this work, Bev? Can you take us anywhere?”

“I’m not allowed to take you two anywhere without permission from The Almighty Judge on High of All Beings Living and Dead for All Eternity.”

Hannibal takes that in, another obstacle to seeing Mischa. His plan to see her cannot be rushed though, first he needs to focus on helping his soulmate get out of a murder he has committed, “but only you can move this train, correct?”

“That’s correct,” Beverly nods.

“If we got off board, can you take this train anywhere else besides the Bad Place? Another part of the Good Place maybe?” Will interjects.

Beverly places her hands on the controls, “I can take this train to the Medium Place, but you two cannot be on board.” She smiles, waiting for them to get off the train with a frozen look on her face.

Once they are off the train, it begins to move down the track, picking up speed until it is far in the distance where it cannot be seen anymore. “We need to return back home, make up an alibi so that they aren’t suspicious of our involvement.”

“You’re telling me everything the moment this is over, you know way too much about this to be guilty of just a few emergency room deaths,” Will hisses, following Hannibal out of the station and back to their home.

It’s another hour before Frederick and the demon entourage are at their door. Hannibal with messed up hair and a look of exhaustion – hardly had to do a thing to get it look authentic given their morning – “oh, is it 11:00 already?”

“My, my, my, did you just wake up…” Frederick says as he walks inside, noticing Will coming down the stairs with equally messed up hair and a look of exhaustion, wearing nothing but his boxers, “well, looks like you two have settled as soulmates haven’t you.”

Matthew groans and scoffs his foot on the wall as he leans back, “could you guys at least make it look like you didn’t just wake up to morning sex. My god.”

“I’ll go get a shirt on…” Will adds on to sell the idea that they were fucking all morning, so they couldn’t _possibly_ know where Linda went. He disappears into the bedroom, taking his sweet time to get dressed so that any anxiety from their lying didn’t seem apparent. Hannibal seemed to have it covered as it is.

Frederick strolls into their living room, where the rug used to be, but doesn’t get any hint to notice that it’s gone, “Since you two were up and at ‘em bright and early, I can only assume Linda is still sleeping?”

“She should be in the guest bedroom, last we saw her was last night. She retired after dinner.” Hannibal calmly replies, ignoring how Anthony is sliding closer and closer to his body, taking in his bare-naked chest.

“She can sleep-in in the Bad Place,” Matthew practically spits out but then quickly turns into a laugh, “just kidding. We don’t let them get sleep,” and then he kicks down the guest bedroom door.

Hannibal watches with cool detachment as Frederick and the demons look inside the guest bedroom to see nothing but a messed-up bed with her scent on it. “Oh? Where is she?” Frederick mumbles out, ignoring the demons disappointed faces, “Beverly.”

A moment of panic rushes over Hannibal, they forgot about Beverly. Shit. He hopes their anonymous requests will prevent her from sharing anything she’s not supposed to, and given she doesn’t know about Linda's death?

“Yes?”

“We seem to have an escapee, you know anything about this?”

Beverly stands there for a moment, unsure of what to say since no, she doesn’t. But Frederick is standing there, expecting something so she opens her mouth and, “the train left early this morning without the demons inside.”

“What?!” Both Anthony and Matthew yell at the same time, “that forking human escaped!”

Frederick sighs, “please, you two. You were hoping for an escape.” They both shrug and nod, escapes were the most fun they can have, Hell can get a bit repetitive after a while after all. “Beverly, where did the train go?”

“To the Medium Place.”

“And you brought her there, why?” He pinches his nose.

“Because they asked me too.”

Frederick sighs and flicks his hand, “go, go.” She does. “I need to go back to my office and report this escape to The Judge. Hannibal, have a good morning.” He leaves quickly, along with Matthew and Anthony, leaving Hannibal alone in the home with Will once more.

A sigh of relief escapes as the door is closed behind Frederick. “I take it we’re not going to the Bad Place? They bought the train escape?”

“Yes, they have,” Hannibal replies, “I imagine you have a thousand questions for me, however.”

Will glares at him, “I do, actually. How many have you killed?” He calmly asks, getting angry over this didn’t mean much now that he was in the same boat as Hannibal…or at least, until Hannibal replies: “I lost count.”

“You lost count?” He replies, shocked. Will crosses his arms, “that is no where the same as me killing one person, Hannibal. Don’t you try and manipulate me to keep letting you stay here when _you’ve lost count_.”

Hannibal nods, “I don’t have to manipulate you at all Will. One or one-thousand murders, the result is the same. You’ll be in the Bad Place beside me if you do not help me stay here with you.”

A scoff and Will rolls his eyes, turning away from the other man and spotting the new door by the kitchen. “What is that? A kill room?” Will asks, sarcastic and annoyed with being housed with a killer.

“Your mother’s dead body is in there, so I suppose, technically, yes. It’s a kill room. However, your living room worked perfectly fine for you.” Hannibal smirks, riling up his soulmate.

Riled up he is, Will turns back around and opens his mouth to rip him a new one when another person knocks on their front door. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” Will mutters, desperate to be left the hell alone for one second. Ignoring Hannibal for the time being, Will throws the front door open.

Of all the people to be knocking on their door at 11 o'clock, it's Jack Crawford. “Good morning Hannibal, Will,” he smiles.

“Jack Crawford, good morning,” Hannibal joins Will at the door, wrapping his arm around his waist to help sell that they are two soulmates in love to everyone else. _Now to convince Will of that,_ he thinks, as he motions for Jack to come in, “what do we owe this pleasure for?”

Jack steps in, but makes no motion to make himself comfortable. At least he won’t be staying long, Will notices Jack staying near the front door. As the door is closed behind him, he says, “Alana and I are not getting along. She had mentioned that you and Will gave her some good advice and seeing as you two are getting along quite well, I thought that…well…” He pauses, a bit embarrassed by what he is about to say next.

“Whatever your request is, know that Will and I will not judge you,” Hannibal says, his face tucked into the crook of Will’s neck as he continues to hug him from the back, he can smell the scent of the body soap and the underlying scent that is fully Will Graham underneath. There is also the tension in Will’s body, Hannibal notices, but Will allows Hannibal to continue instead of breaking away from him with an excuse.

He nods, “it’s been a long time since I’ve dated. I’ve been married for years, you see. I was wondering if you two would like to join us on a double date? Break the ice between Alana and I, a bit.”

Hannibal forces a smile, desperately wanting a date with Will but with Alana and Jack as chaperones? He’ll take what he can get though, “that would be perfect, wouldn’t it Will?”

If he wasn’t behind Will, Hannibal is sure he should see the glare in his eyes, but his forced voice is enough, “yeah, that would be fun. When will it be?”

“Great, great!” Jack exclaims, opening the door. With a wave he continues, “tonight, at the Harris Grill that one of the occupants here just opened. Say, six o’clock?”

“Perfect, have a great day, Jack,” Hannibal replies with a smug tint to his voice. He only let’s go of Will to close the door, then turns to look at Will. Hannibal could tell that Will wanted to strangle him at this moment, but it only makes him smile even bigger.


	7. A Quadruple Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Will have a double date with Alana and Jack. It quickly descends into hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanted to update yesterday but homework :(((
> 
> hope ya'll enjoy!!
> 
> there's two original not-tv hannibal references in this chapter, if u spot them tell me if u want. i want to know whomst will get the references.
> 
> also im on tumblr too: geckosandmath.tumblr.com

“Open it,” Will demands, standing in front of the newly formed door in the kitchen.

He watches as Hannibal pulls out the key from his pocket, the feeling of a predator watching from a distance as Hannibal follows behind him down the stairs and into the new basement. There was no reason to fear, not when he’s already dead, but the fact that he is currently sharing a house with a serial killer was no soothing point either.

Even after death, Will is surrounded by killers. Briefly, he wonders, what that truly says about him. All those years chasing after serial killer after serial killer, always empathizing with the perpetrator and never the victim. Now he himself has killed, and, stopping in front of the freezer he asks to no one in particular, even though Hannibal is standing right behind him: “what does it say about me that I don’t feel remorse about this.”

There is a moment of silence between the two, as Hannibal steps forward and unlocks the freezer next, “are you asking or are you stating, Will?” He pulls the freezer open and Will looks in.

Hannibal walks to the side as Will pulls himself closer, looking inside and examining the body. There’s no need to recreate the murder scene when he has done this, but he can’t help but feel the same thrill and exhilaration that the other killers in his head shared when they themselves murdered. “I wonder if there is decomposition in heaven.” Will muses.

“You want to bury her.”

He shrugs, “we can’t keep her in a freezer forever.”

Stepping forward, Hannibal joins Will’s side and looks down at the corpse below – the skin already frosted. The organs should be following soon. “Go get dressed for the dinner tonight, Will.” Hannibal takes the top of the freezer and closes it, then turns to look the other man in the eyes, “ask Beverly for another suit like the one you wore on the first day. You looked nice.”

“I can’t just wear the same suit?”

Hannibal smiles, “certainly not. Go get dressed.”

Will steps away, nearing the stairs, when he turns back around and looks at Hannibal, “you’re the Chesapeake Ripper, aren’t you?”

Surprised, Hannibal slowly turns around to face the profiler, “how did you come to this conclusion, Will?”

“You said you lived in Maryland, most of the Ripper kills were concentrated there. Within fifteen minutes of my shower, you placed my mother in a freezer. That was your first-go to store a dead body, not in the ground, not shoving the body into a firepit. You’ve done this before, many times, like a routine.” Will looks him straight in the eyes and continues, “get rid of her body. But I don’t want her in my food.”

Will leaves him alone then, his steps echoing in the still-empty kill room. He cannot help but smile at Will’s observations and his permission to consume her - even if he couldn't serve Will his mother, Linda Graham will provide plenty of meat.

As the day moves along, Beverly provides Will with a custom and well-fitted suit, much like the one he wore on the first night but with a different pattern and cut. And below, in Hannibal’s new kill room, she provides him with a new array of butchering tools and storage – she did not question why he wanted a butchering set.

The two awkwardly walk together towards the main street of the neighborhood, keeping their distance from each other while in seclusion but as they approach the town, they force themselves to walk side by side like a couple would. With the Harris Grill having their grand opening tonight, many of the residents turned out to try the food. As they enter they both see just how busy, with lots of people chatting at their respective dinner tables. None of the food has been served, yet. No waiters or a hostess.

Hannibal smirks, wrapping his hand into Will’s as they approach Alana and Jack, keeping up the pretense that they are getting along. Nothing out of the ordinary. Much to Hannibal’s displeasure, Will sits across from Hannibal and next to Alana instead. Hannibal sits down next to Jack and casually observes the new restaurant, “no waiters?”

Alana nods, “apparently they just know what our favorite dishes are and will be served that for the grand opening. Maybe they just know what we want.”

“Through our files?” Hannibal inquires.

“Yes,” Jack replies, he fusses with his suit and his hands. Clearly nervous with being on a double date and having no menu to focus his awkward energy into.

Speaking of awkward energy, Hannibal raises his eyes to look at Will and the other man has clearly disassociated. Already. A bit juvenile, but Hannibal ‘accidentally’ knocks his leg into Will’s to get him to break out of it. He does, with a blink, and glares at Hannibal for a moment before turning his attention to Alana and chatting her up.

There is something about Will being more at ease speaking with Alana about their favorite dishes on Earth that strikes a jealous heat inside of Hannibal. Annoyed, Hannibal turns to Jack to take his mind of his soulmate that is currently avoiding him, “did you have any children on Earth, Jack?”

“Oh, no, no. Bella and I were much too busy with our work to ever settle down like that.”

“Do you regret it?”

Jack is silent for a moment, “Every second that I saw Bella getting weaker and weaker from her cancer, I regretted it. But now? Seeing how it has torn Alana to be separated from her son in the after-life, I no longer do. It is painful enough to be separated from my wife, I could not imagine being separated from my children too.”

“You don’t believe you’ll see Bella again?”

“If Alana is my soulmate, then Bella would have her own when she comes to Heaven herself. Wouldn’t it be awkward to meet her again when she’s happy with someone else?”

The chatter around them begins to quiet down as Frederick and a woman step out in the front of the restaurant, “good evening!” Frederick exclaims and gestures to the woman beside him, “I would love to introduce you all to Tammy Harris. She was a brilliant chef on Earth, and to keep herself occupied with her love of cooking even here in the Good Place she has decided to open up this fine restaurant.”

Everyone claps as Tammy takes in the introduction and compliments with a curt nod. Frederick continues after the applause dies, “underneath the lid on everyone’s plate is your favorite dish on Earth. Tammy prepared it all for you. Enjoy!”

They raise the metal lids on top of their plates to find their own favorite food inside. Alana with a delicious chicken parmesan that her grandmother used to make. Inside Jack’s is the best cheeseburger he’d ever had from a random diner he once happened across on a case. Will has an alligator gumbo that was his childhood favorite from when he lived in New Orleans.

For Hannibal, however, it was salad.

Salad.

He stares at it, looking at the green leaves with an Italian dressing. There’s croutons, tomatoes, olives, and a couple of spicy peppers but…absolutely no meat.

There’s a quiet laugh from across his table, Hannibal’s head snaps to look at Will who is currently smiling around his fork. “Hannibal is a vegetarian,” Will says to Alana and Jack.

“Oh? Even up here? I’m sure no animals are harmed up here, Hannibal,” Alana says, “I’m not sure…is it simulated chicken?” She pokes at her chicken parmesan, curious about how things work up here.

“Simulated, yes, I suppose.” Frederick interrupts as he scoots a chair to their table and joins them, “I can assure you no animals are harmed up here. But Hannibal here,” he places his hand on Hannibal’s shoulder, “even up here he has taken an oath to continue his vegetarian ways. A vegetarian his entire life.”

Hannibal is unsure where to even begin, with Frederick’s intrusion on their double date, to his hand currently resting on his shoulder, to the meatless dinner, or Will’s gleam in his eye as he is silently reveling in the cannibal’s pain.

Jack is surprised to hear that, “you’ve never eaten meat?”

“No, I have not, and I do not wish to begin even here,” Hannibal lies, keeping up whatever story was in the wrong file.

There’s a scratching noise of a table being dragged. They all turn their attention at Matthew and Anthony who are currently dragging a table to theirs, joining them as well.

“Up, up, up, up, Freddy boy,” Matthew smiles as he watches Frederick take his chair away from their table. The two demons smack their table against the other and then flop down onto their chairs, “hope you guys don’t mind we join you on your double date.”

Shocked at the turn of events, Alana stutters out a, “it’s fine.”

Jack however just stares at the two newcomers, confused.

Frederick settles back into his chair, now choosing to sit next to Alana and Jack’s side instead. “This is Matthew and Anthony, demons from the Bad Place.”

“Demons?” Jack asks, wide-eyed.

“Yes, it’s a bit of a long story but I suppose they have come back from the Medium Place? So soon?”

“Yeah, we haven’t left yet,” Matthew replies cooly, leaning back and wrapping an arm around Will. Will smacks it away, and glares at the demon. “Alright, alright, hands to myself I get it,” he puts his hands up in surrender and instead just winks at Will instead.

Two plates form in front of the demons suddenly, and Anthony shoves a fork into a raw piece of bloody meat, “we heard that there was a grand opening tonight, didn’t want to miss this for the world.” Anthony then looks over to Hannibal and smiles, “shame you’re a vegetarian. The only way to eat a steak is when its still mooing,” he says with a piece of dead cow in his mouth and continues to talk with his mouth full. “Bad Beverly!” The urge to kill has never been stronger within Hannibal. And as he looks over to Will, who is currently avoiding Matthew’s flirtation, who is appearing to contemplate killing twice in one day.

Bad Beverly pops up on yet another chair that is suddenly at their dinner table, appearing right next to Anthony. It is getting immensely crowded, the humans looking taken aback as a Beverly that is not their own pops her gum at their fancy dinner. “What do you want fork-nugget?”

The awkward environment has increased almost ten-fold and Frederick can sense it, “Matthew, Anthony…Beverly…perhaps we should leave these four alone to their meal. We’re intruding on their double date.”

“Looks like a quadruple date to me,” Bad Beverly smacks her gum as she looks around at the humans at the table. Suddenly, she spots Alana and smiles big and bright when she notices her, “hey.”

Alana nervously smiles back, “hi.”

Bad Beverly stands up and picks up Jack’s chair, along with Jack in it, as if he weighed nothing more than a paper clip. She picks him up and plops him beside Frederick instead. She sits down, almost looking as if she’s going to sit on air, when the chair that was next to Anthony disappears and reappears below her, “I’m dating her now.” Beverly declares, taking Alana’s hand in hers and smiles, “I like her face.”

A furious red blush grows on Alana’s face as she looks at Beverly and then to Jack, the bad-girl look of this Beverly clearly more attractive than the stuffy and boring Jack. She must have a type, she realizes, as she looks at Beverly's ruby red lips and smokey makeup.

“Beverly, you cannot just take someone else’s soulmate like that,” Frederick says, placing his hand on Jack’s shoulder to try and reassure him. "Alana, Jack, I'm so sorry. I'll get rid of her."

Beverly hums, looking at Alana with a flirtatious smile, “no, I can’t, but Alana can make her own decisions here.”

“I…” Alana looks at Frederick and Jack, “I don’t mind Beverly here. She doesn’t have to go.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Alana,” Jack responds, “we went out tonight to try and get to know each other better.”

Alana looks away, keeping her hand in Beverly’s, “I don’t feel anything around you Jack.”

Hannibal and Will are both vastly more interested in the drama unfolding in front of them than their own meals. The two demons beside them, however, look bored as if they were watching a dry educational documentary - Matthew more interested in the back of Will's head and Anthony lazily chewing the dead cow as he watches.

Frederick gasps, shocked, “but the system is perfect. Oh my god…did…did I miscalculate somewhere…”

The tension between Alana and Jack finally come to its breaking point, snapping as Jack stands up from his chair and excuses himself. "Have a good night," he forces out, "I'm leaving." Flustered and embarrassed at the rejection of his supposed soulmate, he leaves, storming out of the restaurant.

“I must go as well, this…this shouldn’t be happening,” Frederick leaves soon after Jack, murmuring under his breath as he tries to figure out what in the world went wrong.

With Frederick and Jack out of the way, Beverly moves her chair around to sit closer to Alana and Alana lets her. “Well,” Hannibal say, “I suppose the soulmate system isn’t perfect as we all assumed.”

“Clearly,” Will mutters under his breath. He’ll change his mind eventually, Hannibal thinks, determined to get Will on his side.

Annoyed, Anthony looks at Bad Beverly, “you can’t stay up here you know. You’re assigned to our neighborhood in Hell, Beverly. Besides, I called you here and you haven’t gotten me what I wanted.”

Beverly glares at him, eyes narrowing, “the hell do you want then?”

“A1 sauce.”

She snaps her fingers and a bottle of A1 appears in front of Anthony. Overjoyed, he dips his raw steak  into the sauce and hums happily. “Come on,” Beverly says to Alana, “let’s get out of here. They’re ruining the mood.”

More interested in Beverly, Alana nods and joins her. They both leave the restaurant as well, leaving the table with just Will, Hannibal, and the demons.

Riding off the back of everyone else's departure, Will stands up, “we should be leaving too. It’s getting…” Will stares down at his watch: only 7 pm. “it’s getting late. Bye.”

Will all but drags Hannibal out of the restaurant, getting away from the demons as quickly as possible. “Not the best excuse,” Hannibal says as they walk down the main street and back to their cabin in the woods.

“Whatever, I was tried of Matthew breathing down my neck. He was practically glued to me all dinner.”

“He seems attached to you. Will I have to worry that you will run away with another like Alana has?”

Will snorts, “if I were, it wouldn’t be with that creep. Besides, Anthony seems has the same thing for you.” They walk in silence for a few moments before Will cracks a smile, “so the Chesapeake Ripper is a vegetarian.”

“The file they seem to have on me is excruciatingly wrong,” he replies, his voice dripping with annoyance over the entire fiasco at their dinner tonight, “but be rest assured I will honor every piece of your mother, Will. She won’t go to waste.”

Will stops in his track at the mention of the woman he had killed only this morning, it seemed like weeks have passed but its only been a few hours. The surreal-ness of him taking a life. “You never answered my question, from this morning.”

Hannibal tips his head, curious, “which question?”

“I asked you if it’s weird that I don’t feel remorse over killing her.”

“What do you feel, instead?”

They are closer now to the remote forests surrounding their cabin than the bustle of the neighborhood streets, bugs chirp in the background as night descends: at least heaven wasn’t eerily silent. In a way, it reminds him of Wolf Trap, when he’d stand in the fields away from his home, watching his house from the distance. He felt peace in Wolf Trap.

And now? He was in heaven, standing next to the Chesapeake Ripper with the same feeling of peace as he did back in Wolf Trap. Calm and collected.

It’s a stark contrast to this morning, from the feeling of power when he had killed his mother.

“I felt powerful.”

* * *

 

The train stops at a station in the middle of a desert landscape. Nothing surrounds them but dirt and cacti. "Which way is it?"

"I don't fuckin' know," Bad Beverly rolls her eyes. The two demons glare at her until she finally huffs: "that way I guess. If you take to long I'm leaving you two here, I got better things to be doing."

Anthony opens the train door, "you don't even have any junk down there Bev."

She wiggles her fingers, "these seem to be enough for Alana."

Matthew groans and kicks Anthony out of the train door, "hurry up. Let's just get Linda and go. Escapes used to be funner...this isn't fun. I wanna get back to the torturing." 

The train door slams shut behind them as they begin to trek through the desert. It's not hot, but even if it were their bodies were so used to the heat of Hell that this was nothing compared to it.

For miles and miles there is nothing, they wonder if this is what Hell and Heaven looked like before humans began to take up residence there. Or if the Medium Place was specifically designed to look like this in general.

In the distance, a small little house that looks like something designed in the 1980s appears in the distance. "I see it," Anthony nudges Matthew.

"Shit, finally," Matthew picks up his pace, nearing the house's fence.

It's a nice enough house, very middle of the road. Not something in a neighborhood full of poverty and neither something from a neighborhood full of wealth. In the front was a large garden, with a wide range of vegetables and fruits - even plants that would never grow in a desert like a banana tree. 

In the middle of the garden was a very naked woman with red curly hair, she freezes when she spots the two and then yelps and covers herself by hiding behind one of the larger plants, "who the hell are you two?"

"You're naked," Matthew replies, stepping into yard. Anthony follows.

"Yeah? No shit. I've been here for thirty-fucking-seven years with no one else around me. Why would I bother with clothes?"

Anthony looks down at the plant currently covering her up, "we're Matthew and Anthony, from the Bad Place."

"The Bad Place?" She pauses for a moment, "let me get dressed, and we'll talk. One second...turn around."

Wanting to get this over with, they do. Allowing her to get back into her house to get dressed. It's only a few moments before she opens the door again, wearing clothes that were the height of fashion in 1981. "Why are you two here?"

"There was an escapee from the Bad Place, we wanted to know if you knew anything about it," Anthony replies.

She crosses her arms, "and if I do know anything about it?" She absolutely did not know anything about it, but the two demons don't need to know that. This could possibly work into her advantage, after all. A few lies here and there, anything to break the monotony of the mediocre. 

Matthew could see her scheming already, "look, Freddie, we can't get you anything here without the Good Place stamp of approval on it. So don't even think about trying to weasel shit."

"I don't know how in the world, in the history of humans that I was the only one to receive zero fuckin' points, but its lonely as hell here. If you came all the way out here, for the first time in decades, you must be pretty desperate. So, you want that info? Then you better go get that damn stamp of approval then."

The two demons share glances for a moment, and as soon as Matthew nods, Anthony begrudgingly asks: "what do you want?"

Freddie Lounds smiles, looking the two demons over: men...they're attractive enough and while she does prefer women, they'll do. Thirty-seven years of no sex, she'll take what she can.


	8. Trout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some silent treatment. A trout. Bickering between soulmates. Some more bed sharing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i ADORE the bed sharing trope and i had to do it AGAIN...and AGAIN and again until those fuckers FUCK
> 
> trout because one of my fav hannigram fics used trout and its a little homage to Overcoming (read it if u havent its great). okay bye.

The river near his cabin was, to be frank, the most soothing area in heaven since he had arrived here three weeks ago. With party after party, his mother, murder, and well, Hannibal _the god damn cannibal_ , there was very little time for some peace and quiet he so desperately needed. Throwing back his fishing rod, he lets out the line again.

There is a splash in the distance where a fish breaks the surface of the water, but Will is in no rush to catch one. It’s the peacefulness of wading into the stream that he is more interested in than a catch – the supplies in his refrigerator never seem to run out.

A week has past since Will had killed his mother, and while Hannibal still prepared their meals he was respectful of Will’s wishes for her meat to never end up on his dinner plate. The Chesapeake Ripper was a serial killing asshole but with the profile Will had put together of the man before he had died – rudeness was not something the Ripper tolerated. And to break Will’s trust after a promise? That would be very rude.

When the line pulls tight and Will begins to reel in a fish, he sees movement in the corner of his eyes.

Speak of the Devil.

Hannibal keeps quiet as he watches Will pull the fish in, and it isn’t until the fish is wiggling on the line in Will’s hand that he does, “trout for dinner, then?”

Will walks out of the stream and avoids Hannibal, still wrestling with the fish as it slowly suffocates on the air. He pulls out the hook in the fish’s mouth and replaces it with a stringer, threading the needle through the trout’s gill and carefully pulling it through its mouth. With practiced fingers, the process only takes a few seconds and the fish is back into the water, kept trapped by a rope to be pulled out later when Will wraps up his fishing.

It has been an awkward state of limbo between the two ever since that day, he supposes he’s being childish, using the silent treatment against Hannibal but there is very little he can say. He’s stuck with him…for eternity.

“Are you going to continue and give me the silent treatment?”

Will shrugs, treads back into the water and casts the line again. He could tell that Hannibal was extremely annoyed with him, but what was he going to do? Kill him and he’d just pop up in Frederick’s office again.

“Very juvenile, Will.”

 “I was thinking of bringing back two more of my dogs,” Will finally says, keeping his focus on the water instead of the cannibal standing there on the side of the river. Even though Will can’t see Hannibal, he can feel the hatred and seething rage at the very idea of even more dogs in their house. So, he continues: “one of my dogs was immensely hairy. Shed no matter what season of the year it was.”

“Displacement of anger towards me will not accomplish anything, Will.” Hannibal walks further down the bank, so that he’ll be in Will’s line of sight down the stream. “I am not the one who killed your mother, nor the one you are truly angry with.”

“You think I’m angry at myself?”

He nods, “you admitted to me that you felt powerful killing your mother, and that’s when you pulled this little stunt that, to be completely honest, would have put you on my menu back on Earth.”

Will snorts at that, “you can’t kill me up here. Must be frustrating for you, being housed with someone so _rude._ ”

“On the contrary, I find myself excusing your rudeness quite a lot. I suppose it is because we are soulmates that I overlook it so often.”

That make Will burst into a full laugh, he reels in his line again and wades through the water towards Hannibal, “you are not my soulmate.”

“I disagree.”

Will’s smile falters at that, reading Hannibal and finding him completely serious in the regards that he sees Will as his _soulmate_. “I kill one person and you suddenly think I’m your soulmate?” He scoffs, rolls his eyes and heads towards the trout that is trying to pull away from the line. “Your art never gave me the romantic vibe, Hannibal.”

Hannibal follows Will down the bank, watching as he tugs the trout back out of the water and watching him flail around in the air once more. “That is exactly why I believe you to be my soulmate.”

“What?” Will blinks, baffled by how the Chesapeake Ripper could possibly be stricken with him.

“You referred to my work as art. Not kills, cases, or anything of that nature. You can see my art, as it was intended.”

Will starts back toward the cabin, regretting speaking with Hannibal – back to the silent treatment he goes. However, Hannibal is having none of that and follows Will. “Back to the silent treatment again?” Hannibal inquires once they reach the cabin after the mile long hike.

The now-dead trout being shoved into his chest is the answer to that, as Will goes to his guest room to clean up after the outing.

Wordlessly, Hannibal preps the trout with fresh herbs and spices, letting the flavor of the fish cook and become vibrant with the mixture of seasonings. They eat silently, Hannibal skipping on the human flesh that he had cut earlier this week and properly packed for longevity in favor of joining Will in eating his catch of the day. He’ll return to Will’s other catch later, plenty of meat to last him until hopefully another situation where human flesh lands in his lap.

“I have thought more on the issue of seeing my sister.” Hannibal says, breaking the silence between the two.

Will simply hums, keeping his attention on the food below him instead.

“We will need Beverly’s help to move that train.”

“Don’t think whatever Beverly is will find the threat of being killed as a motivator.”

Hannibal’s eyebrow quirks, “murder is not always my go-to, Will.”

“Is it? Because I do remember being assigned on a Ripper _case_ ,” Will emphasizes on the word case to make sure that his slip earlier today as viewing them as art will further poke the Ripper, “where his feet were removed. You know what I saw in that one, Hannibal?”

There is a gleam in Hannibal’s eyes as he asks, “what did you see?”

“He stepped on your shoe, didn’t he? Scuffed it up and didn’t even say sorry.” Will takes a bite of his trout and looks into Hannibal’s eyes as he continues: “the FBI didn’t think that was the right profile, went with another profile. Said it was too petty of a reason to kill someone like this.”

“A wonder they never caught me then, when they refused to listen to someone as brilliant as you.” Hannibal replies, noticing the blush that grows on Will’s cheeks from the authentic compliment. The other man averts his gaze, looking back to the fish on his plate. “On the contrary, Alana seems to have a blooming relationship with Beverly, I believe I can use this to our advantage in some way.”

“If Alana finds out that you don’t belong here, that’s a slippery slope to her finding out what both of us have done.”

“Perhaps, but I do not intend to push it unnaturally. I do have eternity and I can be patient.”

Will’s eyebrow rises at that, “you’re going to try and befriend Alana and manipulate her.”

“Nothing that crass, she is a smart and capable woman who shares my field of studies. It wouldn’t be hard to strike a friendship with her.”

Suddenly, there is a knock on the door. The two both stop the raising of their forks in the same position and look into each others eyes as they set the forks back down. It’s Hannibal who raises and walks to the front door, opening it to find Jack Crawford on the other end – looking pathetically hopeless.

“Will, Hannibal,” he nods to them both as he peers inside, “good evening.”

Hannibal looks him over, displeased with their dinner being interrupted, “how may I help you Jack?” He steps aside, letting the man back in.

Unlike before, Jack takes off his hat and coat and places them on the sofa. It doesn’t look like he’s intending to leave anytime soon. “It’s Alana and Beverly, I cannot stay in that house any longer. Frederick said he would have a place for me to live but he’s…he does not seem to believe that Alana and I are not soulmates and he refuses to give up on us both. But…”

“You want to stay here, in the guest bedroom?” Will says, paling when he realizes that Jack believes that Will and Hannibal are happy soulmates who are _sleeping together_.

Jack nods, “I mean, it was bad enough when it was Bad Beverly with Alana but the Good Place Beverly has somehow glued herself to Alana as well! It’s unbearably awkward there, I cannot look any of them in the eye without being reminded that I have no soulmate up here for the rest of my days. Just thinking about how Bella will eventually come up here and have her own soulmate that isn't me, it…I just wanted to get out of that house. If I could, stay here for a little while? Until I can convince Frederick that we truly are not compatible.”

“You are welcome, anytime Jack.” Hannibal replies before Will could say anything on the matter. He could feel Will’s eyes already boring into the back of Hannibal’s skull, but regardless he continues, “make yourself at home. Will has caught a trout today, there’s plenty left.”

With his bedroom taken again for the night, a wave of déjà vu rolls over him. Except the night his mother had that bedroom, Will had gone to bed with Hannibal without the knowledge that the man was literally a serial killer. The adult thing to do was to share a bed and not act like immature teenagers at the icky thought of bed-sharing.

But this week was apparently Will’s immature teenaged outbursts. With the silent treatment and now this? Hannibal watches as Will paces back and forth, he has a book in his hands but there is no way he can read it when Will is so distracting.

“You slept in this bed with me before, Will. Please stop acting out like this, it’s…irritating.”

Will stops then, sharply turns to face the cannibal, “that was before I knew who you were. It’s different now.”

“Like you said before, I cannot kill you without you popping up in Frederick’s office and risking exposure. Please, lay down so I can focus on this book.”

“I should sleep on the couch…”

Hannibal exhales and places the book down on the nightstand, “the living room is right next to the guest bedroom. If Jack sees you sleeping there he’ll think that there are problems between us. We must remain painfully normal to everyone else and blend in.”

The bed dips down as Will finally sits on his end of the king size bed, he looks away from Hannibal but keeps him in the peripherals of his vision. Without another word, Will grabs the extra pillows and shoves them in the middle of the bed. He pulls the blankets aside and with a huff, tucks himself into the bed. “Read your stupid ash book,” Will says as he shuts his eyes.

Hannibal does, picking it back up with a smile as the man finally gives in to sharing the bed.

As an hour passes, and his eyes begin to droop with exhaustion from reading, he places the book down onto the night stand once more and shuts off the lamp and lays there in the dark.

Unlike the other night they had shared a bed, tonight Will could not seem to get into a comfortable position. Several times the man had wiggled, thrashed, and as Hannibal’s powerful nose caught on: sweated horribly. The pillows that were shoved in the middle to prevent a repeat of Will’s cuddling were quickly throw aside from the former FBI profiler. The blanket and sheets were next, leaving both of their bodies exposed to the cool air.

For a brief moment, Hannibal thinks that Will is doing this on purpose to make Hannibal regret letting Jack into their home to get them to share a bed again, but he soon realizes that Will is truly unconscious. Sure, he had done this in retaliation to Will’s week-long silent treatment, but he did enjoy having Will in the bed beside him.

Tonight? Not so much, he thinks as Will practically knees him during another toss and turn.

This was not the sexy repeat of Will’s cuddling and morning wood that he had in mind.

And while he did enjoy the scent of Will, there was nothing attractive to Will’s sweaty body practically laying on top of him and dripping sweat onto Hannibal’s night shirt.

That was the breaking point as Hannibal gently nudges Will off him, but the man seems to refuse to let go of his grasp – instead he seems to wrap around Hannibal’s body even tighter. “Will,” he softly says, trying to rouse him from his unruly sleep.

He gets Will snuggling the tip of his nose into the crook of his neck and shoulder instead. That seems to calm whatever it is that was making Will toss and turn, and when Will doesn’t move again for a long while, Hannibal lets himself fall asleep.

It's his soulmate after all, and he'll put up with the sticky sweat if its his body that gives Will comfort through the night.


	9. The Reset Button

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will comes to terms that he has some feelings for Hannibal too...and the urge to eat human meat as well? And Frederick tries and get the Beverly situation handled with the threat of his boss coming to check on him looming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did not mean to update today, i usually try for a tuesday & saturday update schedule but.,,,,here!
> 
> also i think i should be having the first chapter up to my serious fic soon, might upload that for saturday instead of this

The two demons and two Beverlys surround his office desk, the addition of the Beverlys wanting to spend more time with Alana had been…another problem that he just did not need right now. He pinches his forehead, and sighs as the four continue to bicker with each other.

“I wanna go back to my neighborhood, alright? And Bev here-“ Matthew violently points to the Bad Beverly who has more interest in a cell phone game than anything else “-needs to come back with us.”

“Nope,” she replies simply, tapping her fingers along the cellphone.

The other Beverly, the Good Beverly, adds: “we have both concluded that we want to be with Alana. We're her partners now. Bad Beverly has told me that this is called a 'threesome' in human slang,” Good Beverly smiles wide, "isn't that neat! A 'threesome' has been added to my communicating with human slang database."

Frederick groans, “you’ve got to be kidding me. This a bug or something?”

“I’m not a computer, and I can’t get bugs,” the Good Beverly reminds with a lovely smile still on her face.

“Yeah, okay, a glitch. Whatever, is…is there like a reset button on you?”

Anthony flops into the chair next to Frederick’s desk, while Matthew looked both the Bad and Good Beverly over for any such thing.

The Bad Beverly rolls her eyes, “the only way to reset us is to kill us. The fail-safe? Remember?”

“And? The fail-safe is neighborhood specific. Which, we need you to take us back and work the train. I can’t reset you from here,” Anthony says, his annoyance growing more and more with the situation at hand. “Frederick, if you don’t get us back to our neighborhood, and soon, I'm gonna have to get your boss involved.”

God, he was getting a tension headache from all this. Frederick sighs, “look, do not get my boss involved! Any small mistake that I’ve made here, and he’ll _gut_ me!”

The demons both shrug, “not my problem, Freddy-boy,” Matthew replies, uncaring about Frederick’s situation.

“Just give me a few hours. I’m going to reset my Beverly. Then, she’ll take you back to your neighborhood and then you can reset _your_ Beverly. It will all work out in the end, just need to…scrub Alana out of her mind.” He shakes his head, leaving his office as quickly as he can just so the demons couldn’t pester him any longer.

They, however, didn’t get that memo and continued to follow Frederick out of his office. “Linda was spotted in the Medium Place, by the way,” Matthew says, intruding into Frederick’s personal space. “Apparently, she kept going, she probably hit the void boundary thinking she could escape into another neighborhood. So my guess? She’s back in her little corner of hell after falling into the void.”

Frederick halts at that and looks Matthew over, “Freddie Lounds told you that?” His eyes narrow, distrusting of the source of that info, “I wouldn’t put much trust in what she says. Humans get all dishonest when they need stuff. What did you get her?”

“She asked for sex which,” Matthew shrugs and looks at Anthony, “she wasn’t my type. Offered her computer with access to daily updates from Earth, she seemed to like that.”

Another halt and Frederick blinks, “you’re not allowed to give anything to her without heaven approval.”

“Look, I get the gist of it. Anything Freddie gets it has to be incredibly mediocre. She got a computer with one-way access to news and internet and shirt, but it’s a computer from the 90s with dial-up internet. She wants info from Earth she’s gonna have to wait like 10 years just for it to load.”

Frederick hums at that, “oh that’s good.” He continues to walk, heading towards the beach where Beverly’s reset button lays. Soon the demons would leave and his neighborhood and the Beverlys would be back to normal – no more distractions from running his own place.

The three reach the shore of the neighborhood, it appeared as any other beach would on Earth except for in the middle was a long pole sticking out of the sand with a large red button on the top. Near the pole, Good Beverly stood. Her smile still plastered on her face.

“Well, let’s get you rebooted Bev,” Frederick says as he comes closer to the reset button.

As soon as his hand was close enough to press, Beverly cowers and freaks out, screaming, “please! Please don’t kill me Frederick! I have so much to live for!”

Shocked, Frederick backs up and stares at her, “Bev…it’s only temporary. You’re not going to die permanently.”

“Oh, yes, I’m very well aware of that. But I’m programmed to respond in this matter so that I’m not ruthlessly rebooted over and over again for no reason,” she explains with a flat expressionless face and then she smiles once more.

Frederick nods, “alright, then…just don’t do that. Freaks me out.”

“Okay,” she nods.

“ _Okay_ ,” Frederick replies, stepping forward again and about to smack the reset button when Beverly screeches out a cry.

She pulls out a photograph of a set of children and shows them to Frederick, “please! I got kids. I got kids, you gotta let me live, please I’m begging you!”

Exhausted of this, Matthew rolls his eyes and steps forward, “just freakin’ press the button! She doesn't even have kids!” He yells, slapping the reset button as Frederick froze in place once again.

Beverly seems to shut down completely and lands into the sand, completely flat and stiff.

* * *

 

He’s never been more comfortable in his life, it hits him as Will wakes up to a warm body laying on top of him. The pressure is just the right amount, the warmth perfect, the sunlight trickling into their bedroom a lovely way to wake up.

Slowly, his mind continues to stir, and it dawns on him that once again Will has snuggled up to Hannibal. His eyes wide open as he stares at the Ripper who is currently drooling on his chest – completely and pathetically unconscious. It was also, disarmingly…cute? The thought hits him and he quickly tries to brush it away as soon as it surfaced.

Hannibal was always put together, to a nauseating degree the man never seemed to have a single thing out of place on his perfectly constructed person suit. But, as Will looks down at him, at Hannibal’s messy bed hair and slack face that rises and falls with each breath Will takes, it is hard to deny that Hannibal was indeed human.

No longer was he the faceless monster that Will had constructed of him when he had worked on the Ripper’s murders. Instead the image was replaced with an incredibly flawed and extremely unconscious human currently sleeping on top of Will.

There is a shift in Hannibal’s breath as the man finally surfaces to consciousness and realizes where he had been sleeping – and the drool that was pooling on Will’s night shirt. Still half-asleep, Hannibal wipes it away on his own arm with a soft ‘sorry’ from his lips.

He gets a laugh in return, and Hannibal turns to glare for it.

“You’re human like the rest of us.”

Not understanding Will’s train of thought, Hannibal just blinks. It’s way too fucking early in the morning for him to try and gleam where Will was coming from.

However, Will seems to understand the confusion on Hannibal’s face and continues: “when I worked on your _case,_ they always seemed other worldly. Like some supernatural beast had created those works of art…but it was just…” Will motions to Hannibal’s still half-asleep body, “you.”

“You refer to them as cases in one sentence and then works of art in another.” Will stills at that, looking up at Hannibal still from his resting position on the pillow. Hannibal continues, “perhaps we should simply drop the pretense that you didn’t enjoy what you saw.” Then, Hannibal rests his head down next to Will’s laying beside him and no longer on top, “you are also an incredibly restless sleeper, Will.”

He had noticed that the pillows that he had placed in the middle of the bed had disappeared, they had both ended up in the center of the king size bed at some point of the night with Hannibal deciding to place his body on top of Will’s. The covers were gone as well, “I had a lot of night terrors when I was alive. On Earth.”

“And you still have them here, in the Good Place?”

“I thought they were gone.”

Hannibal stares into Will’s eyes, enjoying their conversations much more now that he was slowly waking up, “and what brought them back?”

“You,” Will replies simply, no emotion on his face except for a slow blink as Will looks into Hannibal’s eyes. No longer avoiding them, “and myself, if I am to be completely honest.”

Hannibal places his hand on top of Will’s curve of his stomach, and tugs him closer into the crook of his own body. He follows Hannibal’s tug and Will slots himself almost chest to chest with the cannibal, his pupils blown wide from how easily he followed Hannibal’s wordless command, “you do not have to pretend with me Will.” Hannibal moves his face closer to Will’s, his lips closer, their noses almost touching, and then he caresses Will’s cheek with a soft touch, “you no longer have to be torn apart because of how you truly feel.”

There were many things that Hannibal was expecting as he had maneuvered Will closer to his own body. Violence was the largest possibility, followed by a shut-down and him running away, but the smaller possibility – even smaller than Hannibal kissing Will himself, was Will kissing Hannibal. As Will closed the gap between their two lips, Hannibal could not help but feel shocked at how quickly Will had given into it.

The kiss is brief and almost-chaste as neither one fully deepened it before Will had pulled back and realized what he had done, but it was more than enough to last Hannibal for a lifetime. The man before him was absolutely remarkable, both physically and mentally. Will was suited to be his soulmate, and that kiss only seemed to solidify it further on Will’s end.

He feels the same way.

Yet, a part of him still does not wish to give in.

Will sits up in the bed, blinking as he touches his lips and realizes what he had done.

“Don’t retreat, Will.”

“Where else would I go?”

Hannibal sits up next to him, letting their thighs touch as he hugs the man from the back and rests his head on the crook of Will’s shoulder, “no one sits before us in judgement now that we are both dead.” Will’s breath hitches at that and Will allows Hannibal to lay kisses on his neck, slowly marking him with his lips until he reaches the shell of Will’s ear and whispers, “and no one will know if you consumed the flesh of your own mother.”

That seemed to be the final straw, as Will shaked out of Hannibal’s soft grip and left the room with an extreme haste.

As he reaches the kitchen downstairs, the dogs perking up at his entrance with the wags of their tails, Will opens the refrigerator door and takes out the cuts that he knew was his mother. He’s about to stomp on the trash can’s foot lever to empty the human flesh into the trash can when Jack walks out of the guest room and notices the meat in Will’s hands, “ah, breakfast?”

Unsure of what to say to Jack, with human meat – his mother - currently resting in his hands, he just nods.

“What I love about this place is that nothing ever expires up here, that meat is as fresh as…well, however meat works up here. What is it?”

“Pork loin,” Hannibal adds in as he slides into the kitchen with the grace of a cat, he joins by Will’s side and takes the meat from his hands – touching Will’s fingers as he takes the cuts away from the former FBI agent.

“Ah, pork for breakfast. I hope I’m not intruding,” Jack says, more than happy to be out of Alana’s house. He settles at the bar stools in the kitchen, and watches as Hannibal begins to cook.

Will, unsure of what to do now that there is a former cop in their kitchen, just follows Hannibal’s instructions without a snarky comment or a roll of his eyes. Besides, Hannibal didn’t seem to talk much outside of culinary topics when the stove was on, he was more than happy to fill the air between himself and Jack with discussions of different foods they had tried when they were alive and back on Earth.

Compared to Will, Jack was the foodie. The former cop having more shared interest in the topic with Hannibal. Even though Will was lacking in knowledge about food, Hannibal could not seem to get enough of him. The shared touches increased while he helped Will properly cut the vegetables and fruit, and then again when they sat at the table together – consuming his mother.

Will watches as Jack lifts the fork into his mouth, humming around the flavored corpse of one Linda Graham. He can’t help but notice Hannibal’s pleasure knowing that someone is eating human without their knowledge.

But Will knows, and as he spears the meat with his fork, he knows that there is no going back. Just as there had been with no going back when he had murdered his own flesh and blood. Slowly, he takes the fork and places the meat into his mouth, slowly chewing as the texture and flavor rolls over his tongue.

Hannibal places his hand on Will’s thigh, lovingly applying pressure as he smiles at his soulmate.

After swallowing her, Will smiles back. He’s not sure if he should be freaked out by how genuine it is.

Their calm breakfast is rudely interrupted by a loud booming voice seemingly coming from the sky outside.

The three men all abandon their dishes on the table to look outside to find what the cause was: a huge projected image of the Good Beverly repeating: “Attention everyone, I have been murdered.”

Will blinks, staring at the huge repeating video in the sky, and wonders how in the world his heaven had become so full of murder and death.

* * *

 

Back the beach, Frederick stares down at the dead body of Beverly with a grimace and then looks up at the video being projected on his simulated sky. “Oh…oh jeez, how do I turn that off?”

The demons behind him shrug. “Don’t know, never had to reset a Beverly before,” Anthony replies, his gaze up to the sky as he watches the video.

In only a span of a few minutes, everyone seems to congregate into the main town hall of the Good Place, wondering what had happened to their Beverly. The rumors and hushed whispers of the townspeople as they talk about the image that had blared for a good 10 minutes before stopping.

Will and Hannibal had join the rest, with Jack at their side. Curiosity had gotten a hold of all three of them.

Frederick stands before them all, with the casket containing the dead body of the Good Beverly. Beside the funeral  was Anthony and Matthew, the Bad Beverly uncaring about her Good counterpart being reset. “Now, now,” Frederick calls on all the people to stop their chatter. “I want everyone to know that Beverly will be back.”

The sound of relief within the crowd is loud, the chattering returning before dying down again as Frederick continues: “there was a tiny little glitch in our previous Beverly, and I had to give her a reset so that she will be back to normal.”

“What kind of glitch?” One of the townspeople yells out.

Another: “Will she kill us all? A terminator glitch?”

“Beverly is a terminator?!” Screams another, frightened.

“Please! Please!” Frederick tries to calm them down, “return to your homes. Beverly’s system will be back online in a day or two. For now you won't be able to get any of your requests filled, but they will be eventually.”

That seems to qualm everyone’s worries, and they begin to filter out. Will and Hannibal staying for a moment longer, enough to see Beverly return to life. Her outfit was different, but she looked like the same ole Good Bev. With their curiosity about her sated, they leave together to carry on their daily activities in their neighborhood.

After all, for them there was nothing fun about a body that didn’t stay dead.

For the demons, they were overjoyed to see Beverly pop back up from her reset, “finally!” Anthony exclaims.

Matthew pulls close to Beverly and asks, “we need you to conduct that train and get us back home.”

Beverly smiles and blinks, “what’s a train?”

Frederick frowns, “oh, god. She has to reload the entire knowledge of the universe back into her database. This could take days!”

“Days?” Matthew yells, pulling out his cellphone, “I’m not staying here any longer when the Linda situation is all wrapped up. That woman needs torturing and I’m the only one that knows where to hit her where it hurts!” He hits the dial pad with his fingers, the beeps coming out of the cellphone as a number is typed in.

“Are you calling my boss?” Frederick pales, “please…don’t do that, Matthew. I’m begging you, just a few more days.”

The cellphone dials out, and Matthew puts the phone to his ear and with a deathly glare he looks back into Frederick's worried face and replies: “times up Freddy-boy.”


	10. Starling Bowling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Will get forced into a bowling alley. Surprise. They bowl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i passed by a bowling alley on my way back to school from getting lunch. and it just hit me right then and there. hannibal in a fucking bowling alley.
> 
> alsooo, i started to publish my serious fic so this fic may be reduced to once a week updates instead of two. but imma try and keep it to two updates a week. if u wanna check out my serious fic its on my author page, for hannibal, it is an abo fic tho. i wanted to give that universe a shot.

As they walked back towards the cabin, with Jack in front leading them both, Will silently pulled Hannibal away and behind one of the alley ways. He places his finger on his mouth, silently motioning to Hannibal to be quiet.

Hannibal nods, wondering what in the world Will was planning. And as he heard Jack begin to call out their names as if they were lost puppies, he got it.

Will was trying to get the hell away from Jack.

It was when Jack finally disappeared, backtracking his steps to find the other two that Will exhaled. “Finally, my god that guy doesn’t know when to call it quits and leave us the hell alone.”

Will peeks around the corner and verifies that Jack is indeed gone and returns to Hannibal behind the alley way. They were next to a dumpster, except that it didn’t stink nor did it have unfavorable bugs surrounding it. Still, Hannibal looked at it with a face of displeasure and Will couldn’t help but laugh at it.

“It’s just a dumpster,” Will stated, still laughing at Hannibal’s twisted face.

“Where are we anyways?”

Will blinks, “oh I don’t know. I just saw the alley way and took my chances.” The alley way is nice, not like the ones on Earth at all. It’s clean, no litter or stains on the bricks. In the Good Place, no one litters. No one gets nauseatingly drunk that they have to puke their guts up on bricks and trash like they do on Earth, Will assumes.

Right when Hannibal begins to pull away and lead them back towards their cabin, Brian and Jimmy pop up in front of them, “oh! Look who we have here!” Brian playfully taunts and puts his arm around Hannibal’s neck.

Never in his life did Will wish he had a camera in his hands more than this moment here, Hannibal noticed Will’s mocking smile and tried his best to put a neutral face back on, but there was no hiding in front of the empath. “Brian, Jimmy…it is good to see you two again.”

“Gosh, isn’t it? What a beautiful day, sun is shining, not a cloud in the sky.”

“It’s always sunny,” Will replies, a little annoyed that they never do seem to get rain. What the hell did heaven have against rain? Rain was nice, he thinks.

He’s broken out of that thought as Jimmy and Brian rattle on about the bowling alley, dragging them both towards a place across the street that read: Starling Bowling.

Oh no. “They got some really good burgers and fries too, whoever looses the first round is paying,” Brian says.

That gets a laugh out of Jimmy, “Brian, you jokester.” He turns his attention to Hannibal and notices that he didn’t laugh at his soulmate’s joke. Then, practically jabbing him in the ribs: “You don’t have to pay for anything here, that’s the joke.”

Both Jimmy and Brian laugh at the same time, it was fucking creepy, Will thinks with a grimace on his face.

They were already shoved in front of Beverly in front of the bowling alley shoe wall before Will or Hannibal could politely decline. “Go get your shoes while I go get ourselves a lane!” Jimmy yells at them both, leaving Brian with them.

Awkwardly, Will looks around, “I thought you weren’t taking requests right now, Bev.”

She nods, “we’ve got plenty of shoes here, I’ll have to bring them to you manually.”

Will turns to Hannibal and notices his face, it’s even worse than his face around the dumpster. He makes up his mind then and there, revenge for Hannibal conspiring against him to get Will back into his bed. “I’m a size 10 and a half. And my soulmate is a size 11.”

Beverly nods and then turns to Brian who replies, “size 9 for Jimmy and same size as Will for me.”

“Okay,” she turns around and manually begins to shift through the bowling alley shoes. So used to having the items instantaneous, all three of the men get rather impatient quick.

Especially Hannibal, who has been silent for this entire misadventure, and Will fears what the cannibal has in store for him for doing this. With strained silence between them all, Will looks down at the bowling alley carpet and examines the patterns and swirls, “nice carpet…under appreciated pattern,” he mutters. No one else shares his appreciation for the carpet, and quickly turn their attention to back to Beverly when she arrives with their bowling shoes.

Jimmy brings them out to lane 3, surrounding them are other residents of the neighborhood. Residents that Will never quite bothered to meet nor cared to. One by one, Jimmy begins to type in their names into the computer screen and when Jimmy reaches Hannibal he turns around to face him: “Oh, Hannibal, there’s a five character limit so I hope you don’t mind ‘Hanni’,” he laughs and then turns back around before Hannibal could say anything and continues: “that name rhymes with cannibal. Oh, I bet you got that a lot back on Earth didn’t you.”

“I was in the company of people who did not typically make puns out of my name, so no.” Hannibal finally says, breaking his silence. Will can hear the frustration tinting his voice, Brian and Jimmy however don’t seem to notice it.

He wonders if they are truly this obnoxious and oblivious as they put on. Brian claps his hands and smiles, “okay, it’s alphabetical order so! Me first!” He takes his time surveying the different weights of bowling balls, before finally settling on one and cheerfully running up the waxed floor to the line on the alley.

Brian shoots the ball and it flies quickly into the pins, knocking down a good chunk on the right side.

Will doesn’t bother to watch and instead chooses to watch Hannibal instead. As he ties on his bowling shoes, he looks over to his supposed soulmate and laughs, “you gotta put the shoes on Hannibal.”

“I’d rather go to the Bad Place.”

“Melodramatic much? Hannibal, it’s Heaven, do you really think they’re gonna give us shirty and gross bowling shoes? Look?” He lifts his leg and places it on Hannibal’s lap, “they look brand new, don’t they?”

Hannibal glares at him, and as much as he does like Will’s body contact, he gently lifts his leg up and away from him. “Fine,” he mutters, gently taking off his loafers.

“Are you always this prissy?”

“I’m not prissy,” Hannibal replies.

Will snorts, “the look of disgust is worse in here than when we were next to that dumpster.  Please tell me you’ve set foot in a bowling alley before.”

“I’ve never had the occasion, it is not my…type of sport.”

“The hell do you do for fun then?”

If Hannibal shrugged, the movement he made just then would be the closet thing to it. The gentle movement of his shoulders and the exaggerated frown was subtle on Hannibal, “I go to the opera, play instruments, and I read.” His murdering hobby went unsaid, but the look on his face implied it as he turned to stare at Will.

“And you think you and I are soulmates because I only share one of your hobbies?” Will pauses and looks over to Brian finishing up with his second roll. “Your turn, _Hanni_.”

It was worth saying that just to see the absolute terror and disgust on his face.

Even more exciting was watching Hannibal step out onto the bowling alley floor as Brian and Jimmy clap as they cheer Hannibal on with encouragement. Will could see the absolute confusion about the bowling ball and how to hold it, but Hannibal tries to hold himself as if he did know what he was doing.

With trepidation, Hannibal steps out and tries his best bowling stance – a horrible mimic of what people do in movies and TV shows and what Brian had done just moments before – and lets the ball roll down the lane.

And quickly into the gutter. Above them on the TV monitors, a crappy CGI cartoon devil dances as it mocks the player for the gutter ball, before returning back to the scoreboard.

Will wanted to laugh at him, but his empathy got the better of him and fuck…he felt like shit. He could feel the embarrassment rolling off Hannibal, being placed in a public space with no knowledge of how to bowl and then publicly failing. In hindsight, this was a bad fucking idea if he was going to feel Hannibal’s embarrassment this strongly.

“Ah, you get another shot. Don’t give up Hanni,” Jimmy smiles, clapping with encouragement.

His bowling ball is dropped back next to him on the retriever, and he takes it into his hands once more. On impulse, Will stands and places his hand on Hannibal’s.

Shocked, Hannibal looks up and into Will’s face. “Let me show you,” Will says softly, just so that the words are between them both, unwilling to share them with Jimmy and Brian.

Wordlessly, Hannibal accepts and they both walk back onto the shiny waxed wood of the alley.

Will explains and walks through how to hold the bowling ball with three fingers, how best to rest it into the other hand before releasing it. It reminded him a lot of when he lectured in Quantico, teaching his students on how to profile serial killers and understand their thinking, except now his student was the Chesapeake Ripper.

And he was currently showing him how to move his body when he releases the bowling ball. Close into his personal space as Will slides his hands onto different areas of Hannibal's body, maneuvering him into the correct bowling stance.

Without complaining or bitching about it, Hannibal does as he is told. As he gets into the position to throw the ball, Will touches him on the curve of his back and the center of his thigh, placing pressure there to have Hannibal shift his weight there as the ball is thrown.

It makes it far down the alley and hits one of the pins off to the side before landing into the gutter beyond it.

The pin falls over, and knocks down another one with it.

“Hey!” Will claps Hannibal on the shoulder and right when he does that he realizes that Hannibal wasn’t exactly fond of contact like that and takes his hand off.

When Hannibal looks up at him, finally, its with a smile and a genuine one. “You are a good teacher.”

His face reddens at the compliment, knowing it’s coming from Hannibal and knowing that he doesn’t just throw compliments around. “Yeah…umm, you’ll get better obviously. Help you with your aim on your next turn, if you want.” He says, turning away so that he’s no longer looking into Hannibal’s eyes.

They return to their seats as Jimmy takes his turn next. Hannibal choosing to sit practically right on top of him with how close he was. Will’s heart was racing, the physical touches he had placed on Hannibal, shifting his body and moving him was sensual in a way. Flirting.

Oh fuck, he was flirting.

Wide-eyed, he shoots up, trying not to feel sad about the loss of the heat of Hannibal’s thigh that was right next to his, “I gotta pee…”

Brian and Jimmy are too focused on the bowling game to notice Will leaving, and quickly soon after Hannibal was next.

Following Will into the men’s bathroom, Hannibal finds him at the sink, splashing water on his face, “you felt my embarrassment.”

Will flinches, surprised at the voice behind him, and looks up from the sink and turns. He leans his weight on his arms, supporting himself up with the porcelain sink. “Everyone feels second hand embarrassment…for me it’s like…I’m there up with you being embarrassed as well. Is the best way I can describe it.”

Hannibal takes a step forward, closer to the sink now and with a shudder Will pulls himself back at the intrusion into his personal space. There’s a soft touch on his wet chin, as Hannibal places his fingers there and lifts his face up so that Will had to look into his eyes. “Can you feel what I feel right now? Just as strongly?”

Timid, Will blinks and tries to look away but even though the fingers on his chin aren’t painful or uncomfortable, they keep him there, staring up at the cannibal.

“Are you simply mirroring me? Or is it of your own mind?” Hannibal asks, needing consent that it wasn't simply Will reflecting Hannibal's own emotions.

Some of it was definitely mirroring, Will thinks. But he knew his own mind well enough that he had enjoyed touching Hannibal, shifting him, controlling him. His mind would always reflect the emotions of someone back, that was his curse, but he could also feel his own emotions and knew he was in his own mind. “My own,” he replies and then suddenly Hannibal’s lips are on his own.

It’s chaste, more of an exploration for further consent more than anything else. And Will was already down the rabbit hole, already he has murdered and eaten the flesh of his mother…why not add the Chesapeake Ripper as a romantic partner? And so he opens his mouth, letting Hannibal in.

The kiss deepens, desperate they practically breathe the other in, letting themselves be consumed by their partner. Hannibal pulls his body forward and brushes up against Will, their hips pressing together, needing more friction. Hannibal groans into Will's mouth, overwhelmed with the need to touch his soulmate.

“Will!”

There is a bang at the bathroom door and the two break away. As if they were two teenagers caught by a parent they part away from each other, appearing to look as innocent as possible as Brian pops his head into the bathroom.

“Hey, it’s your turn man. Hurry up,” the door is shut as quickly as it was opened.

And the moment was lost between the two, “I should go back out there,” Will mutters, awkwardly leaving the bathroom with a flustered look to his scruffy face.

Hannibal is left alone in the bathroom as Will leaves, he tries to put on his person-suit once more but he has been finding it harder to put it back on when he is around Will. The man makes him loose control, that much is clear. If Will could get him to kiss in a bowling alley bathroom, what else could Will get him to do?

It frightens him, but he steps back out of the bathroom just in time to see Will throw a perfect strike.

He’s absolutely perfect, his bowling stance was graceful and smooth as his leg circles around his other in a beautiful shift of weight.  And Hannibal can’t help but feel that maybe loosing control around Will wouldn’t be a bad thing, he thinks as he looks upon such a lovely creature before him.


	11. Peace and Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick deals with his boss, while Will and Hannibal just want to be left the hell alone.
> 
> Smut begins in this chapter, if you're not interested in it, stop at the **** marker. It's not necessary for the story if you're not interested in smut. Please take notice of the updated tags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright so i haven't written smut in a few years so its more of a brief warm-up then anything else, but i hope y'all like it if you're here for the dicksssss

The train carrying The Judge arrives at the station, with Frederick and the demons waiting on the platform. Anthony and Matthew practically buzzing with anticipation to screw over Frederick. The Beverlys were no where to be seen, but they were no help for now as Frederick gulps in fear.

As it stops, the door swings open and a man descends wearing black Judge robes. “Frederick,” the Judge says as his eyes stop on the architect. He completely avoids Matthew and Anthony, uncaring about the demons.

“Abel Gideon,” Frederick mumbles, “it’s so nice to have you here in my neighborhood. Let me show you around.”

“No,” he replies without hesitation, his gaze finally moving to the two demons beside him, “I was told that there has been a glitch in this neighborhood. One that has caused two demons to be trapped here.”

“Yeah, our Beverly won't work anymore!” Matthew cries, working up his acting skills to be the victim in all of this. "I mean...she's always been a stubborn ash but now she really won't follow our orders even when it's going back to our neighborhood."

“What happened?”

Anthony steps forward now, “they seem to have romantic inclinations towards one of the residents in this neighborhood. And now they both refuse to help us. Even the Good Beverly, he even reset her but I don't think it's going to do anything.”

Abel Gideon frowns, and makes a tisking noise as he approaches Frederick, “you know what we do with architects who mess up? Don’t you?”

Frederick gulps, “yes, sir.”

Abel turns his attention back to the demons, “come, I will bring you back to your own neighborhood. Frederick?”

“Yes sir?”

“You have until I get back. And when I do get back? It's your retirement. I suggest you enjoy whatever time you have left here.”

Speechless, Frederick stands there as Abel motions for the two demons to board the train with him. Of all the things that could have gone awry in his first creation, it had to be the Beverlys. What had happened for them to be so taken with a human?

He leaves for Alana’s mansion, desperate for answers. Maybe he can get Gideon to change his mind about the retirement if none of this was his fault – but instead the humans.

Alana wasn’t surprised to see Frederick at her door, Bad Beverly still beside her as she still hasn’t been reset. The Bad Beverly looks at Frederick with a sneer, “you reek of desperation.”

“Do I?” Frederick feels himself practically having a heart attack from the anxiety of his boss being here, “You don’t think it has anything to do with you?”

“Nope,” Beverly replies, popping her gum and giving a general air of uncaring. 

However, Alana opens the door wider for Frederick and lets him into her mansion, “Frederick, I do not wish to return to Jack Crawford. He isn’t my soulmate, and I know you don’t wish to face the facts that you made a mistake somewhere along the lines but it isn’t a big deal.”

Frederick scoffs, insulted, “it is a very big deal! Us architects aren’t allowed to make any mistakes when we create neighborhoods, you see. One mistake can lead to cosmic errors and have huge consequences for us all.”

“A bit dramatic,” Bad Beverly replies, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

“Yes, I’d have to agree. There hasn’t been any issues up here that would signify huge consequences, Frederick.”

He pinches his nose, “I will allow you and Beverly to stay together if you do something for me, please. I’ll put this entire soulmate business between you and Jack to rest if you just do one simple thing for me.”

Interested, Alana nods, “what is it?”

“I need you to tell my boss that you and Beverly aren’t together anymore, and that you’re with Jack Crawford. Lie to him and he’ll return to our offices and you and both Beverlys can live together without any more intrusion.”

Not wanting to deal with Jack Crawford any longer and the realization that being with women is far more superior than being with men, Alana was quickly convinced and nods. “You have yourself a deal.”

* * *

 

The Good Place was, in simple terms, exhausting. Will thinks as he barely keeps up with pleasantries while being around Jimmy and Brian. They had placed cheeseburgers and fries in front of Will and Hannibal, a token of appreciation for their little bowling adventure. And Will supposes, to cheer Hannibal up after he had lost the bowling game. However, the cheeseburger and fries that currently sat in front of Hannibal only seemed to make his mood sour even further and Will was desperate to get the hell out of here and away from socialization.

There was only so much talking he could take in a day. And with Brian noisily sucking on the straw where a few droplets of soda remained in his cup, he was desperate to find any excuse possible to get away from them both.

“We have to go,” Will finally says while Jimmy and Brian were talking about a new boxed set of X-Files they had recently 'purchased' and was going to marathon over a week.

“Oh,” Brian replies, disappointment all over his face, “but what about the X-Files marathon? We have popcorn and candy.”

Jimmy smiles and obliviously adds on: “Plus! We don’t even have to sleep up here, so we can just keep going and going! Now that’s what I call a TV show binge. It will be like a sleep-over! Except it would be an un-sleepover…but you know what I mean.”

With Hannibal beside him, Will couldn’t exactly tell what expression was on his face but at this point he knew Hannibal way too well that that was never going to happen. Besides, Will himself didn’t want to have an un-sleepover with the two, he could barely manage being around them for a game of bowling. “Sorry, but we had other plans for tonight.”

“Ah,” Jimmy winks, “I get you. I hope you two stockpiled on lube since Beverly isn’t online for the moment.”

Despite himself, Will coughs awkwardly from Jimmy's implication that their plans were to _fuck each other_ and stands up. Hannibal standing quickly after him, riding once more on Will’s terrible excuses, “yes, we have plenty. Now if you will excuse the both of us?” Hannibal places his hand on the slight curve of Will's back and escorts him out of the bowling alley.

“Have fun you two!” Brian and Jimmy call after them, their voices suggestive.

And while Hannibal didn’t _run away_ , their brisk pace was close to it, and soon they were out of the door and on their way back home.

With a sigh of relief, Will opens the door to his cabin. Home, where his dogs were waiting for him, home-cooked meals by his serial killer roommate (or soulmate?), and – as he steps inside and looks upon his living room: apparently the hottest spot for a group meeting.

Hannibal stands beside Will, surveying their cabin that had been intruded upon. Sure, it was his idea to invite Jack to stay the night or two so that he could get Will all to himself in a shared bed but this? This was not at all what he had in mind. And frankly, it was beyond rude for Jack to invite guests into their cabin without their permission.

Along with Jack was his maybe-kinda-not-soulmate Alana, Frederick, and the two Beverlys. Despite him not being an empath like Will, he could feel the fury growing in his soulmate. His Will had desperately been wanting alone time since the first day here and there has been little time to himself. Hannibal will have to make it up to him, hopefully they could stay in their bed for a few days to a week exploring each other’s bodies.

But for now, these guests needed to be rid of. “May I ask why you are all in our home?” Hannibal places his hand onto Will’s shoulder, defensive of him and no longer pretending to be his soulmate, the gesture genuine.

“Hannibal, Will. I am so sorry to intrude upon your quaint cabin but we had to speak to Jack.”

“What’s going on?” Will inquires, not bothering to remove Hannibal’s hand, and actually moves into the touch.

Frederick nods, there is desperation all over his face, “as you two know, we’ve had a slight glitch with our Beverlys. They seem to have been taken with Alana Bloom,” he gestures to her who is currently standing as far away from Jack as possible in their tiny living room and beside the two Beverlys, “which prompted my boss to visit.”

Annoyance grows within Hannibal, they were all intruding on what could have been a quiet evening with Will but instead there was yet another bout of drama. He is about to open his mouth to tell them to please leave and handle that somewhere else when Will cuts in: “If this has nothing to do with Hannibal and I, I would like if you would all leave.”

Surprised, Frederick’s jaw drops from the request to leave. He scoffs, “we will be leaving soon, I just had to talk with Jack Crawford here and-”

Suddenly, behind both Will and Hannibal, the front door to their cabin swings open, and the Judge steps forward into the cabin. He looks upon them all and both Will and Hannibal turn to face yet another intruder who has entered their home without permission.

What the hell is with these supernatural creatures and not asking for permission to enter their private spaces?

Abel Gideon steps in and looks around the cabin, barely giving a glance to the humans or the Beverlys beside Alana. His attention focuses on Frederick instead, “your time is up Frederick. It’s time for your retirement.”

“Retirement?” Alana asks, “I thought that you were facing _severe_ consequences?”

The architect is the epitome of fear as a bead of sweat rolls down his face, “retirement for us isn’t the sort of retirement you humans have. It’s basically death.”

A laugh rises from Abel and all of the humans turn to look at him, “he’ll be ripped apart molecule by molecule, launched into a sun to burn for all eternity, as his very essence is slowly destroyed over thousands of millennia. It is a torture that is unrivaled by any other.” He smirks as he stares down Frederick, “and Frederick is due for retirement, glitches are not to be tolerated.”

“Wait!” Frederick practically cries, “the demons, they were lying. They were trying to get me in trouble with you but as you can see the Beverlys are perfectly fine and Alana and Jack here are soulmates.”

With horrible and stiff acting, Alana forces a smile and walks over to Jack and takes his hand, “yes. We’re soulmates.”

Jack nods, his acting only a smidge better than Alana's: “we knew we were soulmates from the start.”

Disappointed, Abel’s smile falters and he turns to look at the two Beverlys, “Good Beverly, Bad Beverly, are you two working as you are supposed to be?”

The Bad Beverly rolls her eyes and exhales, “yeah.” While the Good Beverly nods and smiles, “yes.”

Abel groans, and kicks at the hard wood floor of the cabin, leaving a scuff mark with his shoe. Hannibal’s eyes immediately going to the scuff mark, the need to kill growing even more within him. It’s been almost three months since he has killed, only riding off the high of Will’s kill and now that was wearing off now that Linda’s cuts of meats have slowly dwindled down to scraps for dog food.

“Fine, you won’t be retired then, Frederick.” Abel says, annoyed. He had been looking forward to taking apart Frederick. The architect across from him sighs in reliefs, happy to stay alive. “But,” Abel adds: “you will be removed from this neighborhood.”

“What!?” Frederick cries out, “But this is my very first neighborhood! I’m attached to it!”

“No other architect has stayed in their neighborhoods that they have built. It is time that you move on and create another one, there are plenty of souls out there that need a place to stay in the afterlife, and I don’t believe your involvement here is good for the humans.”

Jack looks between the two supernatural creatures, confused, “so, what? We’ll be left alone?”

Abel nods, “a neighborhood is designed to be self-sufficient. Any requests will be made to your Beverly, and since there truly was never any glitch then you won’t be needing Frederick any longer.”

“Can I at least say good bye?”

“No, come on. I have no time for this, I have other things to Judge. I am extremely busy, I have a meeting with a designer of Black Holes in thirty minutes and I must prep for that.”

The humans all remain silent as they watch Frederick turn to leave with Abel. Slowly, Frederick turns to look upon the four humans, his Beverly, and he frowns. “Take care of them, Beverly.”

“Of course, Frederick. That’s my job,” she smiles, perky and happy even with her boss leaving.

There’s a strange tension in the air as the two supernatural creatures finally take their leave. There was very little to be said. But Will finally cuts the silence between them all with a: “can you all please just leave my house now?”

Alana and Jack separate, with Alana returning to the two Beverlys. She hugs Will and Hannibal goodbye, but nothing more than a nod for Jack as he shuts the door behind her.

However, Jack seems to linger, thinking that he still has a place here. “You too, Jack.” Will opens the door for him to take the hint and the man stills.

“But I have nowhere to go.”

“Beverly seems to be working again, get her to make you a house somewhere. Preferably away from us, I like the solitude here.”

“I understand,” Jack nods. He gathers up his things and heads toward the door, “well, thank you for having me in the meantime. I know this was…a lot to handle.”

Both Will and Hannibal motion for him to leave, “Good bye, Jack.”

“See you later then,” Jack replies, leaving their home.

Finally.

Peace and quiet.

Will slumps on the sofa and rests his head onto the palm of his hand with a sigh, “God, that was…exhausting.”

Hannibal sits beside his soulmate, the couch dipping at their shared weight, as he runs his fingers through Will’s curly hair. Wanting to sooth him from a very eventful day, “a lot has happened today. I am still unsure of what all that was just a few minutes ago.”

The fingers rubbing his scalp and gently tugging at his curls feels great, especially with the day he had. And so, Will leans into Hannibal’s touch, further allowing him to massage his scalp. “I’d rather not think about any of that, we will have time for that later.”

“Repercussions of losing our architect be damned?”

“Yes,” Will’s eyes flicker in pleasure from the fingers trailing through his hair, and rests his head onto Hannibal’s firm body, “too much has happened, I’m overwhelmed.”

****

Slowly, Hannibal’s other hand softly grips Will’s thighs. A gasp escapes from Will as his large hand begins to travel up the soft texture of his slacks and towards his groin. “Allow me to take your mind off such things, then,” Hannibal’s voice low and heady.

Sharing a bed was one thing, two shared kisses another, but trepidation grows within Will at the thought of Hannibal sharing such an intimate act as sex with him. His cock, however, doesn’t necessarily give a shit about who is touching him, as it begins to stiffen from the Hannibal’s firm grip on the inside of his thigh.

He wants this, and fuck, turning off his brain sounded a hell of a lot better than over-thinking all of this – and so Will nods and gasps out a “yes” which immediately is swallowed by Hannibal’s mouth. The kiss is passionate and deep, nothing like the first two kisses which where chaste and exploratory. This one was hunger and both Will and Hannibal were starving for each other as they let the other in.

Hannibal’s hands move away from the sensual zone of Will’s scalp to the buttons on his pants, ripping them open and tugging the zipper down, a hand presses up against Will’s hardened cock. Will groans in pleasure from the contact, desperately wanting.

“I want to taste you Will,” Hannibal rasps out, voice desperate and starving for his soulmate.

And Will allows Hannibal to pull down his pants and situates his body so that he lays parallel with the length of the couch. Hannibal between his thighs, he takes in Will’s cock into his mouth, swallowing him down with a practiced ease.

"Christ!" Will cries out, shocked at how quickly and easily Hannibal had taken him down. He can’t help it when he thrusts his hips, wanting more, and feeling the movement of Hannibal’s tongue underneath his length. The man hums around Will’s cock, only making Will feel even more aroused and on the brink of coming – he had never came this fast before but as Hannibal kept taking him down and moving back up his cock it was hard not to. “I’m gonna come,” he barely gets out, his voice strained and deepened with lust.

Hannibal only seems to pick up the pace at that and pushed his cock into the back of his throat when Will comes. He swallows every bit of Will's release, with practice and a hunger he licks his dick clean and slowly begins to leave a trail of kisses from his spent length, up his stomach, and then to the crook of Will’s neck. He runs his fingers through Will’s hair once more and lays on top of his soulmate, his hard cock still trapped within his own trousers – desperately wanting to fuck Will but not until his soulmate is ready.

****

Arms tightly embrace him, Will allowing Hannibal to mark every inch of his body. They lie there in the quietness, finally enjoying the solitude together.


	12. New Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal did the unexpected: they're a couple. Revelations are made in bed.
> 
> Sex starts and ends with **** so that you can skip the porn if you're not into that. If you skip the porn, all the context you need is that they moved upstairs instead of being in the living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finals week is ramping up and i was pretty stressed today, but i wanted to keep my updates regular and not skip a week, so...a short (even shorter if u skip the porn) but necessary update
> 
> hope you enjoy this chapter!

****

As Will sits there on the couch, breathing heavily with his dick still out of his trousers, most of his come inside Hannibal rather than on his stomach. Slowly, he raises his hand and touches Hannibal’s hips, moving his fingers delicately towards Hannibal’s own tenting pants.

“Do you want me to-“

Hannibal breaks him off with another desperate kiss, allowing “upstairs” and "our bed" to escape his lips before he presses them back against Will's.

They made their way upstairs, making sure that none of Will’s dogs followed them into the room as Hannibal pushed Will onto their bed. Will smiles up at him as Hannibal tugs the rest of his clothes off, practically ripping them from his soul-mate, so desperate to touch his flesh.

And Will reciprocated, pulling off the shirt and trousers from Hannibal, running his fingers along the trail of hair that led to Hannibal’s thickening cock. It’s been a very long time since he had last had intercourse, and the want continues to grow in him as he cups Hannibal’s length into his palm and applies just enough pressure to get a groan from Hannibal.

Lips crash into Will’s own as Hannibal pulls himself on top of Will and Will allows it, wanting the weight on top of him – craving more. For a short moment, Hannibal breaks their kiss to rummage through the night stand beside the bed, pulling out a tube of lube from the drawer. When Hannibal returns Will’s gaze, the implication wordlessly shared between the two as Will spreads his legs.

The sight of the former FBI agent sprawled on his bed is almost too much, and Hannibal can't help but tuck this memory away for later. Hopefully, he'll be able to draw this seductive Will later, wanting to have a physical reminder of what Will is giving him for the first time.

Hannibal squeezes enough lube out to coat his fingers and carefully begins to circle his finger around Will’s hole, slowly entering one finger and waiting for Will to acknowledge to move onto two. Will gasps out a moan, his arms strained as he grasps the sheets underneath, and nods for Hannibal to move onto two fingers.

Slowly, another digit enters him and Will bites his lip at the sharp and burning pain. It eases when Hannibal drips on more lube, scissoring his two digits until another finger is added.

Hannibal positions Will on his back, coating his dick with enough lube as he lines his cock up with Will’s hole. Slowly, he pushes in, taking note of the hitched breath from Will beneath him. Will’s arms tense around him, lightly scratching at his back as Hannibal enters. When he is fully sheathed inside Will, his soul mate grabs his face and begins to deeply kiss Hannibal, desperate and messy.

He pulls back and then thrusts back into Will, soliciting a louder groan this time. Hannibal can’t help but enjoy the litany of noises that Will makes, music in their own right, as he thrusts in and out of Will’s wet hole.

Will wraps his legs around Hannibal’s, crossing them just under his ass as Hannibal pushes in and pulls out faster. When Hannibal wraps his hand around Will’s straining cock, Will shudders and his body rocks with the release of his orgasm. Hannibal soon follows, coming into Will’s body, sheer ecstasy of his soulmate’s warm, tight entrance surrounding him.

****

Hannibal lays kisses onto the side of Will’s neck as the two start to calm, wanting Will to know that he is his he lightly nibbles his flesh – wanting to leave something permanent, but not without Will’s consent first. There is, after all, an eternity to place marks on his mate.

“Do you still believe that we are not soulmates?” Hannibal asks before returning to another soft kiss under Will’s jaw.

A moment of contemplation as Will lays there, running his fingers through Hannibal’s hair as the man continues to devours him with soft kisses all over his neck and chest, “I’ve had sex with other people and they were not my soulmate. Why are you so desperate that I agree with you?”

“I have an eternity to convince you, then.”

“I shouldn’t have to be convinced that we are soulmates. I should simply know.”

Hannibal sighs and supports his weight on his arms as he looks into Will’s eyes, “we can be wrong at times in our first impressions.”

“Are you admitting that you were wrong about me, then?”

“Seeing you for the first time, I admit, I was skeptical that you were my soulmate. But as I’ve gotten to know you, it is as clear as day.”

Will laughs softly, “you already know my first impressions of you.”

“Yes, you were quite blunt in your observations. Are they still the same?”

He shrugs underneath Hannibal and starts to sit up on the bed, not wanting to be underneath Hannibal for this sort of conversation. His nudity is something he barely thinks of, as both of them lay there, ruined from their sex, “the serial killer cannibal aspect is new.”

Hannibal can’t help but smile at Will, “you’re quite the same as me then.”

“I’m not a serial killer.”

“You may have murdered one person, and it was here in the Good Place, but every day you went to work for the FBI you got into their heads. One doesn’t do that sort of work for years unless they enjoyed it. Serial killer by proxy, perhaps.”

Flinching, Will looks away, “enjoying someone else killing is not the same thing as killing someone…and I didn’t enjoy it. It did a number on me actually, I wasn’t the most stable person in Quantico.”

Does he have to lie even now? He had killed someone in front of Hannibal, ate the flesh, and day by day he realizes that the only reason he had never given into his impulses were simply because he had thrived enough on the death he consulted on. Living through the other serial killers were enough to satiate his want to take and destroy.

Hannibal seemed to catch his lie immediately, smiling at him as he tucks a brown curly lock behind Will’s ear, “did you ever empathize with the victims?”

Will shakes his head, he could have – easily – his empathy and imagination as well as forensic knowledge had helped him form intricate profiles. Using those skills on the way the victims could have had the same outcome, but he preferred the power and strength of the killers.

“Is it bad that I enjoyed it?” Will finally asks, his voice low as if he would be scolded for saying such a thing out loud.

“Not at all,” Hannibal replies. Hannibal sits beside Will and tugs his soulmate so that his head is laying on his chest. “When I first arrived, my initial thoughts was that this was the Bad Place, given my first impressions on you and your choice of a habitat.”

Will stills, only his head moving with the rise and fall of Hannibal’s chest as he takes that in. And he recalls his own first day here, his first impressions of the Good Place was the reuniting of him and his old dogs but ever since then there has been little to solidify that he was indeed in Heaven. Party after party, socializing, hell even the mix-up with being placed with a cannibal serial killer that he was chasing on Earth seemed…ironic.

His eyes open wider as he realizes, and then he pushes away from Hannibal so that he can stare into his eyes as he says: “oh my God. This is the Bad Place.”

 

* * *

 

His initial neighborhood plan was, to keep it succinct: trite garbage. It looked like any other neighborhood that the other Architects created. No, Frederick wanted his first solo neighborhood to be different from the others. Something that would be so unique that his boss Abel Gideon would want to recognize talent in Frederick.

And so, he created Neighborhood number 512018C and called it The Good Place. Unlike the other demons, his Neighborhood would be the perfect Hell for humans to torture each other. The demons would be nothing more than instigators, players in a massive lie, as the humans destroyed and tortured each other with their clash of personalities and interests.

Alana Bloom would irritate Hannibal Lecter, by showing him what he is missing with the life of luxury and a mansion estate with beautiful artworks. Jack Crawford would irritate everyone, his personality so brash and cut-throat that it was hard for him to make any genuine friends. And Will Graham would irritate Hannibal Lecter because of his lumberjack aesthetic both in his home and his clothing and Hannibal vice versa.

A funny irony, Frederick Chilton thought, to place an FBI special agent and the man he was chasing on Earth together in the same room. And then placing two humans that were previously married on Earth together? With little to no interest in each other? It would create the perfect balance of drama and self-torturing that would last for millennia.

He hadn’t expected for Will to shack up with the cannibal. Nor did he expect the Beverlys to become so enamored with Alana. Sure, Alana not actually being soulmates with Jack was planned, but the Bad Beverly was an unforeseen rock in his gear. It had forced his plans into a stand-still, the demons were supposed to quickly return to Hell to torture Linda Graham, not be stuck there to see Frederick's fuck ups.

No, that had gotten him kicked out of his own torture device. And as the other demons were laughing at the outcome at their desks, Frederick sulked at the coffee station. He grabbed a cup of black matter and angrily poured cream and sugar inside of it, needing something to take his mind off things.

Matthew pops up from behind him and slaps his shoulder and lets loose a huge laugh, mocking him, “oh man, you really fucked up. You hear what happened?”

“No,” Frederick all but seethes through his teeth, “I was removed from my own Neighborhood and put back on secretarial duty for Abel because _someone_ ratted me out.”

Rolling his eyes, Matthew snorts and grabs the creamer from Frederick’s hands, “there’s a reason why Architects aren’t supposed to be in the Neighborhood. It’s like the Sims, you gotta create it and just let it be.” He pours the creamer into the dark matter, making it appear as milky as the Milky Way, “Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter, they fucked and then Will figured it all out that they're in the Bad Place.”

Frederick blinks, “what?”

“Apparently Will was _really_ into killing his mom. You underestimated him and Hannibal together...plus, Will? Smart guy, the FBI didn't keep him on their pay-roll for nothing. ”

“It's one thing to profile a serial killer, another to profile a demon…”

Matthew shakes his head, “yeah, no. Reports from the demons on surveillance said that Will figured it out. You thought you were so smart Freddy-boy, but in reality you just created a failed Neighborhood and then got fired from it. Really, I thought you would've been retired, but someone must still like you to be surviving at this point.”

Suddenly Matthew shuts up as he notices Abel Gideon walking towards the two. Surprised at Matthew’s change in demeanor, Frederick turns around and regards his boss.

Gideon stands there for a moment, looking his two demon subordinates over, then clicks his mouth when he regards Frederick, “you might have misinterpreted these humans in how they would interact with each other, but I believe we still have a plan with your Neighborhood you created. There is potential here, in your fuck up, to fix things.”

“So, you aren’t resetting their memories and placing them into separate Neighborhoods?” Frederick asks, desperately hoping that his boss is going to allow a second chance for him to return and navigate whatever this new plan is. “What’s the new plan?”


	13. The Bad Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Will invite Alana over for dinner as they try and confirm Will's theory. The demons make their first move to put the new plan in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are okay with the plot twist from last chapter! that was always my intention to get that in there from the show and why i warned for show spoilers just in case anyone wanted to watch the show before reading this fic they wouldn't have that plot twist spoiled for them.
> 
> to confirm: yes, they are in hell. the dogs are real, i have no intention of doing any harm to the dogs, i'll gladly kill off humans but dogs? no. the story will have a happy (i mean??? kinda...), albeit different from the show, ending
> 
> at this point, im gonna begin to wrap up this fic in the next couple updates. so if you guys have any further ideas to add in before its over, please leave them in the comments below.

“How could this be the Bad Place? I’m rather sure that neither Jack or Alana are deserving to be in hell,” Hannibal replies as he redresses himself, keeping a cool gaze upon the still-naked form of Will laying in their bed.

“We never asked, we just assumed,” Will says, “I mean, they might’ve done something bad on Earth and either didn’t realize it would land them here or they were both like you: thinking they were accidentally put here and didn’t say anything.”

Hannibal nods, taking that in, “there is only one way to find out if your theory is correct.” Will stares up at him, curious over Hannibal’s plan to verify if they were indeed in Hell instead of Heaven.  “We’ll need to invite Alana over for dinner tomorrow, inquire after some details in her life.”

“If I’m correct then the reason why they brought my mother here instead of taking me to Hell is because there’s no access to heaven from here. Your plan to befriend Alana and Beverly to use them to try and get to Mischa won’t work.”

Hannibal picks up the pants that had been thrown to the floor and offers them to Will, “I will find my sister, Will.”

Sitting up, Will takes the pants from Hannibal and slides them up his legs. He looks Hannibal over, standing, “as much as you don’t like to regard yourself as a human, you are one. And the others are demons well above your stature, don’t underestimate them. Play this wrong and you’ll never see your sister again.”

“Perhaps its them who should not underestimate humans,” Hannibal replies, regarding Will’s chest that is quickly covered by a hideous plaid button-up. He pauses for a moment as he muses over Will’s warning, then, “I have already come to terms that I would never see my Mischa again on Earth. Dying has opened old wounds but I can face the fact that she is out of reach once more.”

“Eternity is a very long time, and knowing she’s out there but unreachable.” Will pauses for a moment, smiling, “very clever of them, that’s one of the ways they are torturing you.”

“And what about you? What is your torture?”

“Apparently being in Heaven with the Chesapeake Ripper was supposed to be mine,” he softly laughs, “being with you is both torturous and I have to admit - rather freeing to be myself for once.”

Hannibal leans over and softly kisses his soul-mate, Will allows him and opens his mouth so that their tongues slide against each other before pulling away, "just the sight of you nourishes me, and leaves me hungry for more," Hannibal says, taking in the way Will's face reddens. He runs his fingers over his jaw, "let me cook you dinner, we can talk more of our plans then." 

* * *

Brian frowns deeply as he looks over the text they have received from their boss after he had sent that report, of all the things he was supposed to do in Hell this? This was unbelievable. There was no way that he and Jimmy would be separated like this after they had spent eternity together, torturing souls in different neighborhoods in Hell. 

“What is it Brian?” Jimmy asks, chilling on the couch with an iPad in his hands as he watches a marathon of The Real Housewives of Heaven.

“Their stupid new plan, I don’t like it.”

Jimmy snorts, more interested in what’s on his screen than his co-worker, “tell me something I don’t know. You’ve been complaining about this assignment when we started.”

Brian throws his phone on the recliner besides the sofa and collapses into it with a loud sigh, “is it so wrong that I just enjoy traditional torture? You know? Poke them with a hot stick over and over again, now that’s my definition of a good time.”

“I don’t know, I kinda enjoy this. I think if you were successful in getting them into that bouncy house, that would’ve been one of my top 10 torture moments in this place.”

“It was difficult enough getting them into that bowling alley,” Brian settles back into his chair, “the new plan is going to be instigated by you, by the way, which is why I don’t like it. I'm not gonna go, you can make up an excuse for me cause I'm staying put...”

At that, Jimmy sits up, completely interested, “oh? Tell me! I want to know.”

Underneath him, Brian pulls out the phone that he was sitting on and chucks it over to Jimmy, “have fun.”

As Jimmy reads over the text message from their boss detailing the new plan, the smile that was previously on his face drops into a frown.

* * *

They exchange greetings and pleasantries as Alana arrives at Hannibal and Will’s cabin. Alana strolls about the cabin’s living room that blended into the small little dining room and smiled, “it’s such a cute and tiny home. I still get lost in mine, even after all this time here.”

"And where are your two lovely girlfriends this evening?" Hannibal inquires.

Alana sighs, "sadly, they couldn't join. The Good Beverly is too busy helping the others around the neighborhood with their requests, the whole thing kinda got back logged with her being offline. And the Bad Beverly? Well, I won't repeat what she said because she has quite the mouth even up here where its censored...but she didn't want to come tonight. She can't eat anyways, so I didn't press on the matter."

Hannibal returns to the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up and an apron tied around his waist. Beside him is Will who helps chop up the fresh vegetables, taking note of the last good cuts of meat from his mother that sat beside him, covered in spices and ready to be cooked by Hannibal’s hands.

He had not joined Hannibal when he went downstairs to their basement to chop up his mother, for Will that space was solely for Hannibal. While he did not feel regret about killing, he wasn’t quite ready for that step forward to butcher an entire human being and sort their parts into separated baggies for later consumption.

Besides, it seemed to be one of Hannibal’s hobbies that Will didn’t wish to infringe upon. He had his fishing, and Hannibal had his butchering. Both of the killers had their methods of relaxation, and felt no need to force himself into Hannibal’s hobbies just as Hannibal didn’t wish to force himself into fishing just to please Will.

“Wine or beer?” Hannibal asks.

“Beer, please,” Alana smiles and as Hannibal passes her a glass full of freshly poured beer she settles down at the kitchen bar and watches as the two men cook, “you two really are soulmates. It’s cute, how you to cook together like this, very domestic. Reminds me of when I used to cook with my wife on Earth.”

Will looks up from cutting his onions and blinks at Alana, surprised by the comparison that they were acting like a married couple already, “if you could never see your wife again, what would you do?” Will asks, trying to steer the discussion away from Will and Hannibal being together to the reason why they had invited her in the first place.

Alana shrugs, settling her glass of beer on the counter and frowns, “I’d imagine being in the Good Place that I’d still be able to see her, even if she would have her own soul-mate, that wouldn’t change the relationship that we had while we were alive. Why do you ask?”

Slowly, Will sets the knife down and looks over at Hannibal. As Hannibal nods, Will explains, “we think that we’re actually in the Bad Place, Alana.”

At first, there’s no reaction on her face, then as she blinks it seems to settle into her mind, “why? I mean…why would you believe that we’re in Hell?”

“Did you do anything on Earth that might have place you in Hell, rather than Heaven?” Hannibal turns around, settling besides Will as he waits for Alana to muse the question over.

“Well,” she quietly replies, ashamed, “Margot and I killed her brother.”

Will’s mouth gapes open as Hannibal’s typical stoic-ness breaks as his eyebrows quirk up. “And you didn’t think it was odd that you were in the Good Place?” Will asks, shocked.

“I figured it was because he was an abusive ash-hole that it didn’t count,” Alana replies, a bit flustered from sharing a secret that she promised she would take to the grave with her wife, “he was absolutely abusive to Margot and there was no way we could raise a child in the home with him there, he had hurt so many children before but he always got away with the crime.”

Alana takes their reactions in, desperately hoping that the two men before her would be on her side. Killing a pedophile and abuser to protect themselves and their future child couldn’t possibly warrant her being in the Bad Place, she was sure of that.

“What about you two?” She adds in with the awkwardly straining pause that was growing. “I mean, Will, you solved crimes for the FBI and caught serial killers! How could you be in the Bad Place if you saved lives?”

Awkwardly, Will shifts, he didn’t feel comfortable sharing the fact that he had killed his mother here - and enjoyed it - nor did he want to explain the way he enjoyed profiling the killers and taking their lives by proxy.

Besides, he wasn’t even quite sure if that was the reason why he was here, “I’m not sure,” he finally replies, returning to cut the onion below him, “it just hit me last night that even though this was supposed to be heaven, it hasn’t been anything like the paradise we assumed it would be. I mean, look at how you and Jack Crawford were placed together, practically begging to cause conflict between the two of you.”

There’s a knock at their door as it startles all three of them from their conversation, it had piqued all their paranoia from the idea that they could be on Hell.

Will places down his knife and nods to Hannibal to keep cooking. With Alana and Hannibal in the kitchen, Will slowly walks to the front door – unsure of who the new intruder could be.

It’s Jimmy Price on the other end as the door swings open, a plate of horribly-iced chocolate cake on a platter in his hands, “I heard you two were having dinner and well, I thought to myself, how about some desert to go with it!”

“Thanks…Jimmy, but we’re-“ Will is cut off as Jimmy rudely barges in.

"Brian couldn't make it sadly," Jimmy loudly announces, both Hannibal and Alana are staring at Jimmy as he all but barrels into the cabin uninvited, setting the cake down on the counter. Jimmy smiles, hoping that they won't question him for an excuse as to why his soulmate would want to skip crashing a party as he hadn't even bothered to think up one, "but he sends his regard with that chocolate cake." Will catches the deathly glare from Hannibal as he pretends to focus his attention on the food below him.

Will pulls himself near Hannibal as, behind them, Jimmy sits right next to Alana and strikes up innocent conversation with her. Whispering, “guest bedroom, now.”

Hannibal smiles wide and looks over Alana and Jimmy, “if you’ll excuse me for a moment. Alana, could you keep an eye on that pot of water?”

“Oh, of course,” she replies, and Will could see the discomfort in the way she held her body at the intrusion of Jimmy into their dinner.

Inside the guest bedroom, Hannibal closes the door behind him as he places his attention on Will, “awfully rude of him to barge in, uninvited.”

“Exactly,” Will paces back and forth inside, “I’m ninety-percent sure that Jimmy is in on it.”

“Jimmy is trying his best to get on our nerves, I would say from day one.”

Will nods and as he opens the door slightly to peek outside, Hannibal joins beside him just in time to see Jimmy settling his feet on top of their coffee table, slouching as he accidentally spills drops of beer onto the couch.

The door is quietly shut as the two took that in, “I believe you’re right Will.”

“The hell are we going to do? Just have a demon over for dinner?”

“We could kill him,” Hannibal replies with ease, as if they were discussing the weather than the fact that they were in Hell.

Will frowns and crosses his arms, annoyed, “we can’t just kill _everyone_ who’s in on this Hannibal. Besides, if he is a demon then killing him might not even _work_. They could ‘respawn’ like Bad Beverly said…” he groans, “we need to get Alana on board and see if the Good Beverly can get us on that train.”

“You mentioned before that its probably impossible to access the Good Place from here.”

“Remember when Beverly told us that she could take the train to the Medium Place? But that we couldn’t be on board?” Hannibal nods and Will continues: “We’ll get her to take us there if she can't take us to the Good Place, and figure out where to go from there.”

“Before we do all of that, we need to confirm that we are in the Bad Place.”

“All this talk about how I’m your soulmate, and you don’t trust me?”

“It’s not a matter of trust, we have to prove it to Alana if we want her help.”

Will shrugs, they did have to get Alana on board so that she could convince the Beverlys to move the train with them on board. They also had to do this without telling the truth about Hannibal as she would most likely be against helping a serial killer, “use your stupid emergency room deaths excuse, don’t let her know that you’re a serial killer.”

Hannibal’s eyebrow quirks, “and I won’t tell her that you enjoyed killing your mother.”

He shoots Hannibal and glare and angrily pulls the guest bedroom door open with more force than necessary. Behind him, Hannibal follows and they quickly return to an easy conversation and cooking.

Alana leaves their home after dinner in a timely manner, not overstaying her welcome whatsoever and is happy to return to her home, the plan to discuss their predicaments put on hold at Jimmy's intrusion. There is an amount of unease in Alana as she leaves, now that the idea that she is in the Bad Place has been planted inside her mind she couldn't help but retrace every moment since her arrival. 

Jimmy, on the other hand, did no such thing as he didn’t take Alana’s departure as a sign that he should leave as well. Instead, he pulls himself into their kitchen and begins to clean up all of their cooking utensils and dishes, “and Brian refuses to talk about marriage. I mean, we’re soulmates, and even though we are dead we should at least talk about taking one of our lasts names,” Jimmy goes on and on as Hannibal stews next to Will in their couch.

It’s when there’s a crash of a plate hitting the floor that Hannibal’s patience was drawn, and Will is all but helpless to watch as Hannibal smoothly rises from his seat, grabs the knife that sits besides the sink, and slashes it against Jimmy’s throat before Jimmy could even grasp what was happening.

There is a gush of blood that sprays all over Hannibal’s nice suit as Jimmy falls to the ground. Then, Hannibal takes the chocolate cake that Jimmy had brought and throws it in the trash, relishing in both the kill and getting rid of a pastry abomination in one go.

Will watches, a frown on his face at the displeasure of Hannibal not listening to him, “I told you not to kill him.”

“You wanted a way to prove that we’re in the Bad Place,” Hannibal gestures to the dead body on their floor, “when he ‘respawns’ we’ll find out if you’re right or not.”

Will steps around and joins Hannibal’s side, looking down at the dead body, “if we’re wrong, we’re going to the actual Bad Place.” Will groans, looking up at Hannibal with a deep annoyance drawn across his face, “this is why I didn’t want you to kill him, this is…a dangerous gamble.”

Hannibal nods, “better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission,” he smiles as Hannibal looks upon his beautiful soulmate who is currently giving him a deathly glare, “and I will ask for your forgiveness later when you are not angry with me. I believe that you're right, Will," Hannibal caresses Will's jaw, running his thumbs over his short stubbly beard, "it may be a dangerous gamble, but I'm placing my bets with you."

* * *

Jimmy, no longer in his human flesh disguise, strolls in from the portal. Unlike the other demons who all look like humans still, Jimmy appeared to be a 9 foot lava monster, “who’s idea was it to kill my character off?”

All the demons turn and stare at their boss, Abel Gideon, and they are quick to point at him.

“Man, I was having fun there,” Jimmy crosses his fire-y arms and frowns.

Abel pats Jimmy on the shoulder, the fire radiating off of Jimmy's body doing no harm to Abel's hand, “there, there, you had a very important role to play and you did it beautifully. That bit when you spilled beer on the couch was nice, you are very talented in the art of persistent annoyance, and you'll have a raise when you are assigned to your new neighborhood.”

“What about Brian? He’s been my partner for eternity, I’m not going into a new assignment without him.”

Abel nods, understanding, “fine, fine. We’ll get those two boys to kill him off next, I'm sure they won't mind a little killing spree.”

Jimmy nods, happy with that conclusion. “We’ll have to get you a new human form though, sadly those two boys are going to eat your old one," he flicks on his cellphone with another report from the neighborhood, "ah, yes, they are. It's already been moved into Hannibal's kill basement."

Sitting next to them, and over hearing their entire conversation, Frederick sets down his drafting pencil onto a blueprint that sits on his desk, and turns around in his swivel chair, “this plan of yours, Gideon, isn’t going to work.”

Abel laughs, “oh, and yours did?” He shakes his head, “get back to work on editing my new neighborhood plans for these two. I want it ready for them, I have a feeling that everything will come together very, very soon.”


	14. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal join Alana and Jack to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost to the end! :o
> 
> a bit later than i wanted to upload this, sorry! there was a new redlettermedia video uploaded and i had to watch it and then my friends sidetracked me with more best of the worst................. but i hope you guys enjoy!!! <3

Hannibal takes the entire night to butcher and cut apart Jimmy’s human form, saving some of the meat for later even though he has a feeling that he won’t be in this tiny little cabin for much longer. He cleans up the knives and butchery tools and starts up the stairs with Jimmy’s heart in his hands.

When he had last left the kitchen, it was covered in blood splatter and a pool of Jimmy’s blood was on the floor. Now, as he enters inside the small little kitchen and prepares breakfast, there is no sign that it had ever happened. Will had done a great job cleaning up the mess, and Hannibal wonders where the former FBI agent had gone while he was disposing of Jimmy’s corpse.

As he begins to cut open the heart and prep it for cooking, Will strolls inside from the back door – still wearing the clothes from last night. “Where did you go, Will?”

“Went looking for Jimmy, I don’t think he respawned,” he then settles at the kitchen counter, his gaze focused on Hannibal’s ease of slicing the hard muscle for cooking, “you’re going to eat a demon?” Will snorts, “is there anything you _won’t_ eat?”

“ _We’re_ going to,” Hannibal corrects, a smile growing on his face, “you were not ecstatic about eating your mother at the time when I had cooked her heart and I would at least like for you to try it once.”

“Offal isn’t exactly my favorite food…”

Hannibal ignores him and surrounds the heart with herbs and spices, gracefully placing it on a sizzling pan on the stove top. “You wanted me to eat those ghastly chicken fingers and then that horrid burger, the least you can do is try a demon’s heart.”

He can’t help but grimace at that, but there is a sort of curiosity growing within Will. Is it really cannibalism if it’s a demon heart and not a human heart? Even if it does look and taste human… “Fine, I’ll have a little. But if I don’t like it I’m eating a bowl of Lucky Charms just to spite you.”

“I trashed those.”

“I’ll just call for Beverly then.”

Hannibal smiles, placing his hands on top of Will’s hips and stares down at him, “you are a truly infuriating creature.”

 “I’m infuriating because I prefer Lucky Charms to eating a demon’s heart?” Will laughs, wrapping his own hands around Hannibal’s, enjoying the ease of banter between the two, “we’re potentially going to be found out and you’re more focused on my last meal.”

There is a gleam in Hannibal’s eyes as he picks up Will’s hand and presses it to his lips, “whatever their plan is, we’ll get out of here together. It is not your last meal, I am simply concerned about the state of your taste buds.”

His hand is let go as Hannibal turns his attention back to the heart cooking on the stovetop, he flips it, letting it cook on the other side. “What’s the plan on convincing Alana?”

“I don’t have one.”

Will stills at that, “you’re literally just making this up as you go along, aren’t you?”

Hannibal nods, a smirk on his face, “I am. If you haven’t noticed by my impromptu kill last night.” He pulls the heart off the skillet and places it to rest on a plate on the counter.  Then, he takes a couple of eggs from the refrigerator and begins to beat them into a creamy mixture, “I’d imagine that Brian will be looking for Jimmy soon as that was his ‘soulmate’. We’ll probably get a knock on the door very soon.”

“So, you’re hoping for Brian to show up and then?”

“Kidnap him.”

Blinking, Will suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, “your current plan is to kidnap a demon.”

The eggs begin to thicken on the stovetop as Hannibal seasons the scrambled eggs below, “do you have a better one?”

“No,” Will replies as Hannibal scrambles the bit of grilled heart into the eggs, topping it with fresh parsley. The plate and a fork is set before Will as Hannibal turns around and quickly begins to make his own plate. “Heart and eggs…I’m not sure if this is a good combination.”

“Me neither, doesn’t hurt to try new things. If it’s bad, just trash it,” he replies, nonchalantly.

Will takes a bite of the heart and eggs scramble, the heart was cooked rare and wasn’t too tough against the softer bites of egg. It was an odd taste, he’s not sure if he’d ever willingly eat it again but it wasn’t horrible either. There was that bit of a flavor that was certainly human, just like the last slices of meat of his mother that he and Hannibal had eaten. “If demons taste differently, I can’t tell.”

“Tastes like a human heart,” Hannibal replies, his own lips wrapping around a fork. “Even if Jimmy wasn’t a demon, he’s still much better off on our plates than alive.”

The clock in the kitchen strikes seven A.M. and suddenly there is a knock at the door. Both Hannibal and Will seem unphased by this, so used to the almost-every-day home intrusion by the other residents of the neighborhood. Hannibal was correct in his assumptions as Will pads across the cabin floor and opens the front door: standing there was Brian Zeller.

“Brian,” Will replies, “good morning.”

The man wordlessly pushes in as he looks around the cabin, worry scrawled all over his face, “have you seen Jimmy?”

“No, I haven’t. He left last night,” Hannibal replies, casually strolling up to Brian with the knife in his hands.

Brian spots the knife in Hannibal’s hand, focusing all his attention on Hannibal before him, “he didn’t come home last night.”

Hannibal stops right in front of him, the definition of calm as he looks down upon the man. Brian is too focused on Hannibal and the knife that the lamp being crashed over his head is something he never saw coming. He falls to the ground in a huge crumple as Will wonders over to the small little storage closet by the front door and pulls out the fishing rope that he had used weeks ago to keep his catch fresh. “We’re just gonna bring Brian over to Alana’s house like this?”

Briefly, Hannibal returns to the kitchen and pulls out a dish rag from the counter. He then balls it up and shoves it into Brian’s mouth, “the path there is relatively empty this time of the morning, and if anyone comes by I’ll kill them as well.”

“Don’t…Hannibal,” Will exhales, wrapping the rope around Brian’s unconscious form, “I’m pretty sure these two are in on it but I don’t know about the others.”

All he gets in return is a slight shrug as Hannibal returns the blade to the rightful place in the kitchen. With Brian’s body tied up, Hannibal can’t help but smile, “you’re very good at tying up a person, Will. One would wonder that you’ve done this before.”

He catches the innuendo and glares at Hannibal, “…come on help me pick him up.”

Hannibal complies, lifting Brian by his shoulders as Will grabs his legs. As expected, the path there was empty as they carried Brian over to Alana’s mansion. However, in the distance was Jack Crawford who had woken up early to watch the sunrise with a cup of coffee in his hands. From the porch of his new little home that Beverly made him, he stands up and watches as the two figures carry a body down the path leading to Alana’s mansion.

His police officer instincts kick in, and he starts toward the figures below. There was no need for handguns in heaven, but that didn’t stop him from practically bolting to Alana’s house to stop whatever was about to happen there.

It’s a surprise to Alana when Hannibal and Will arrive at her home with a wiggling Brian in their possession. Both Beverlys were there beside her as the door swing open and both Hannibal and Will carry the bound man inside.

The Bad Beverly watches with amusement as the boys flop Brian onto the couch that was in Alana’s large living room, while the Good Beverly just smiles – unphased by what was going on. Alana’s expression, however, was one of complete shock, “what in the world?”

Immediately, she’s at Brian’s side. Her fingers rest on the rope, about to take it off, when she recalls the night before, her hand stills: “what is going on?”

“Jimmy was in on it,” Will replies, sitting down and resting after that long journey of carrying a heavy adult man across their neighborhood. Hannibal joins him as well, it was odd to see the Ripper breaking out in a sweat, but they were human after all. "And so is Brian."

“In on it?” Alana asks, her eyes wide from shock and confusion as suddenly a loud banging noise from the front door pulls all their attention to Jack Crawford: who is breathing heavily and sweating from his run there. “Jack?” Alana stands up, the tone of her voice straining, desperate for answers.

“I saw those two carrying Brian towards your home and-“ Jack takes another deep breathe, he was not used to running since becoming a police chief, “I was worried about your safety, Alana.” Then, Jack looks over Hannibal and Will, trying his best to be intimidating but he just looked sweatier and about to kneel over, “what are you doing with Brian?”

Brian starts yelling and talking, his voice mumbled through the dish rag in his mouth. Alana pulls it out, and he continues: “those two are crazy! They did something to my soul mate!”

Both Alana and Jack’s heads snap up to stare at Hannibal and Will. Alana gasps, “what did you to do?”

Hannibal stays quiet as Will starts: “remember when I said that we’re in the Bad Place, Alana? Jimmy was in on it, he’s a demon that was sent to torture us.”

“Jimmy?” Jack scoffs, “he was a little irritating but a demon?” He folds his arm, not buying any of this, “I’m a former police officer, how could I possibly be in the Bad Place?”

“Who did you harm, on Earth, Jack?” Hannibal finally says, calmly sitting beside his Will, his legs calmly crossed one another as if he were in a therapy session.

Jack points a finger at Hannibal then, “I didn’t harm anyone. I saved lives.”

“Did you kill them directly or was in an indirect kill?” Hannibal presses.

Furious, Jack yells: “It was self-defense!”

“You killed someone in self-defense?” Will asks.

Jack nods, stiff and jarring, not wanting to talk about it, “how could I be in the Bad Place if I killed solely to save a life?”

All of them were quiet as that question left Jack’s mouth, but it’s soon broken by Brian who is acting even more desperate now to get out of the rope bounding his legs and hands together, “you guys are crazy, let me out! I have nothing to do with whatever the hell you guys think I’m involved with.”

Bad Beverly settles onto one of the couches, a bag of popcorn in her hands as she shares it with her Good counterpart sitting beside her, “this is so much fun to watch, you guys.”

They all turn their attention to the Bad Beverly, her remark on the situation breaking the tension in the air. “Beverly, please,” Alana replies, “do you know anything about this?”

She snorts, “yeah.”

Curious, Jack steps forward, “and? Are Will and Hannibal correct? Are we in the Bad Place?”

“Yup,” the Bad Beverly calmly responds, then pulls out her cellphone and starts fiddling with a game app, “this Beverly over here was the only one not allowed to tell you.”

The Good Beverly lifts her hand, and with a smile she replies, “I am strictly forbidden from talking about the Bad Place at all.”

Surprised, Alana blinks, her mouth wide open, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never asked,” is her simple response, followed by the pop of some bubblegum.

“And Brian?”

“Demon.”

The tension in the room shifts dramatically, all their attention turning to the demon in the room. “You four are the only humans. The rest of the residents here are demons.”

Jack looks around the room, his voice destroyed from the revelation that he is in Hell, “you’re kidding me.”

“Nope.”

Will cuts in then: “we can escape to the Medium Place though.”

“The Medium Place?” Jack and Alana ask at the same time.

Before them, Brian starts laughing, “escaping? To the Medium Place?” He looks upon all of the humans in the room, “as if you guys belong there. You belong in the Bad Place, and after all this is through you’ll be tortu-“ he is cut off as Will swiftly crosses the room and grabs one of the ropes, pulling it tight around Brian's neck and strangles him until he completely stills and dies on the couch.

All of the humans’ shocked gaze – except for Hannibal who is rather enjoying the view with a large smile on his face - is on Will as he finally releases the rope, Brian’s body falling to the floor with a loud thump.

Jack stiffens at watching someone kill a person in front of him, trying to keep himself from reacting like he would on Earth. It was a demon, and they were in Hell. Did it really matter if Will killed him?

“We need one of the Beverlys to get us a train and escape to the Medium Place, there’s no way to move them without them.”

Still surprised, Alana turns to the Good Beverly and asks: “can you do that for us?”

“I’m not allowed to take anyone from here without permission from The Judge, I’m sorry Alana,” she replies.

“I don’t,” Bad Beverly chirps in, finally pocketing her phone, “I wanna stick it to Frederick from trying to separate me and my girl,” she pulls Alana in, wrapping her hand around her hip, “plus I wanna see all those demons scramble.”

Jack balks, “so this is really happening. We’re in Hell and we’re going to escape to the Medium Place?”

As Will nods in response to Jack, he suddenly remembers his dogs that he had left behind in the cabin, “my dogs,” then he turns to Hannibal: “I’m not going anywhere without my dogs.”

Hannibal sighs, “of course, we’ll go get them as everyone else leaves for the train.”

The two start to leave Alana’s mansion when the Good Beverly snaps her fingers, “no need to worry about that. Your dogs are on the train right now, waiting for you.”

Will sighs in relief and joins Hannibal’s side as they start for the door with Jack following. Behind Jack is Alana and the two Beverlys and they all start for the train station. The main town square of the neighborhood has already begun to fill with the demonic residents, carefully, the four humans and the two Bevs make their way across the back alleyways of the town square to avoid being spotted by the demons.

There’s no train there, so they wait as the Bad Beverly enters the control room and places her hand on the hand print pad. It beeps and suddenly, in the distance, a train arrives with a clean puff of smoke. It settles in the train station and the humans begin to board.

In one of the train carts, there were all of Will’s dogs, overjoyed to see their human they pounce on him with a huge swarm of wet kisses. A couple of the dogs even jumped on Hannibal, quick to find the other human just as pleasing as their old master. Hannibal grunts and softly pushes them away as he sits down, Will right next to them.

By their side, Alana sits down next to the Good Beverly and near the front Jack sits alone: sad and solemn. The fact hasn’t quite hit him yet that he’s in the Bad Place, but Will can see that it’s slowly beginning to dawn on him that their reality is not what it was first presented as.

“The demons aren’t supposed to come to the Medium Place without an angel escort with them, but that hasn’t stopped them before,” the Bad Beverly explains as she pulls the lever and the train begins to move forward.

The Good Beverly adds in: “our ability to retrieve items for you won’t work there.”

“It won’t?” Jack replies, dismayed, “I can’t believe this is happening…just this morning I was enjoying my day and now? I've just learned that I’m in Hell! And I’m on this god awful train to what? Purgatory?”

“The Medium Place,” the Good Beverly replies.

Alana shakes her head, “I just cannot seem to wrap my head around the fact that we’re in Hell. I mean, we’re both in here for self-defense, Jack, I cannot believe this system is so black-and-white.”

At that, Jack turns to look at Will and Hannibal, his eyes narrowing, “if Alana and I are in here for self-defense, why are you two in here?”

Hannibal replies as Will had instructed the day before, returning to his more palatable lie: “I was a surgeon and lost many lives on my operating table. It appears that even the lives I couldn’t save are categorized as kills.”

“Such a cruel and unjust system,” Alana replies, closing her eyes and pressing her fingers to her temple. Her Beverly wraps her arm around her, a little stiff and awkward since the Good Beverly hadn’t had the same amount of time as the Bad Beverly to learn proper human responses, but nonetheless, Alana accepts her touch.

“And you? Will?” Jack says, proceeding in his interrogation.

Will stammers a bit, unsure of what to say, “I’m…to be honest I’m not completely sure. I worked for the FBI but I never killed anyone while I was there, self-defense or not…I mean I was let go from the New Orleans Police Department cause I couldn’t even pull the trigger against a perp.”

Jack doesn’t seem to buy it, but Hannibal cuts in before he could say anything else: “even if Will doesn’t remember or know why, it seems that all of us are in for unjust reasons. Life is not black and white, and I believe that we have all been wronged in being placed into Hell.”

Both Alana and Jack agree with Hannibal’s statement, nodding their heads as the train continues down the track. The scenery changes, the once green and plush mockery of the Good Place was replaced with the dry desert of the Medium Place. Nothing surrounds them for miles and miles except for sparse cacti.

The humans settle in the train seating, quiet as they stare at the passing landscape. Beside Hannibal and Will, the dogs all lay down around the floor of the train, uncaring about their change in situation. Hannibal takes Will’s hands into his, a soft smile on his face as he leans in and brushes his lips against his soulmate’s.

Will looks into Hannibal’s eyes, and softly he asks: “do you believe that we are still soulmates, after all of this?”

Hannibal nods, “Heaven or Hell, you are my soulmate, and nothing about the fact that we are in Hell changes that.” He takes in Will’s soft smile and leaves another soft kiss, “must I still convince you?”

The train stops before Will could respond. Bad Beverly stands up before them all and with a smirk on her face she states, “all you motherfuckers can fucking cuss up a fucking shit storm up here now.”

All of the humans stare at her at the sudden onslaught of cussing, almost unused to it after those few months of it all being censored.

“Also, the fucking Medium Place is fucking over there.”

They follow her gaze and all they could see is even more desert landscape. Regardless, all of them file out of the train, the hoard of dogs all happy that they can finally move around.

The Bad Beverly leads them down the desert, the sun beaming down on them but its not hot at all. A house finally appears in the distance and they all begin to pick up their pace, wanting to get out of the repetitive dry desert.

As they all approach, Freddie Lounds spots them through the window in her little home. Frowning, she quickly gets dressed in her only outfit that was given to her in the afterlife, and situates herself out in the front lawn – and stares them down, “if you fuckers want anymore information then I want faster internet.”

“They’re not demons,” Bad Beverly replies.

The Good Beverly adding: “all of them are humans except us two.”

“Oh,” Freddie replies, looking upon the four humans and a stampede of dogs that are absolutely overjoyed to take in her smell as they surround her legs. “Oh my god, it’s been so long since I’ve seen a dog!” She bends down and runs her fingers through their fur, “what are you guys doing here?” She asks, still petting the dogs as she looks up at the humans in front of her.

“Escaping the Bad Place,” Alana replies for them all.

Freddie blinks, “you guys murderers?” Her gaze briefly falls on Hannibal, a look of recognition spreading across her features. Quickly, it disappears as she looks the other three over.

There’s an awkward silence that falls on all four of the humans, a grimace on Jack’s face and a smirk on Hannibal’s.

But Freddie laughs and gestures for them to enter her home, “doesn’t matter. Even if you kill me I just _poof_ right back here. I’ve been alone for way too long and I need some company, doesn’t matter who, go inside please I got some alcohol in there you guys can have.”

Without any hesitation, the humans, the Beverlys, and the dogs, follow Freddie Lounds into her 1980s middle class style home.

The alcohol is all average medium-shelf alcohol, and the ones that were best served cold were all warm instead. Will downs the warm whiskey without ice with a strained grimace on his face, as he continues to sit beside Hannibal who was currently sipping on a painfully average glass of wine.

Freddie sits at her computer, a web page slowly loading on the screen as she sits there in her little swivel wheelie chair.

Noticing the internet loading on the computer, Alana asks: “you have internet? Oh my god, you can contact humans on Earth still?”

Freddie laughs in response, “no, sadly it’s a one-way computer. I can see what people on Earth are saying, but I can’t relay anything back. Plus, it takes _forever_ for something to load.”

“What have we missed in the last few months?” Jack asks.

“The few months? Mister, I’ve been going over stuff since the 1980s. I mean, _so much_ has happened. So much. I mean, Trump? The President? Now that’s the Bad Place, if you ask me Hell is so much better than Earth compared to that shit-storm.”

Jack shrugs, “what do you have loading now?”

Freddie Lounds spins around in her computer chair, looking over the slowly loading web page that is half loaded up, “an article about one of the more recent serial killers that I’ve taken an interest in.” She looks over to a wall full of print outs about different serial killers over the past 40 years, on the board was Jeffery Dahmer, the Minnesota Shrike…and the Chesapeake Ripper. Will stares at Hannibal face that is currently tacked on the board next to Garrett Jacob Hobbs.

All the others seem to notice that as well, taking in the photo of Hannibal Lecter and then turning to stare at the man who sits beside Will.

With a huge smile on her face, Freddie Lounds looks upon Hannibal Lecter with a spark in her eye, “I guess I get to have the first interview with the infamous Chesapeake Ripper.”


	15. Better to Rule in Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to an end as Hannibal, Will, Alana, and Jack face the Eternal Judge and are placed into their new neighborhood in the Bad Place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update because I'll be busy all day tomorrow. :)
> 
> This is the first fanfiction I’ve EVER finished, I usually abandoned them or just finished short little one-shots. I’m sooo proud of myself for doing this and I wanna thank everyone who supported me while I wrote this. It’s not the best fanfiction and I never intended it to be nothing more than a fun little writing project while I was bored at school. But regardless, I’m really happy with this and I hope that you all enjoyed it too.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at jamesransonesmustache.tumblr.com 
> 
> Thanks again for supporting this work! All your comments and kudos really got me inspired to finish this thing. :D

“ _Hannibal Lecter, aged fifty-two, was found dead in his Baltimore residence. But that is not the only thing Baltimore P.D. found after reports of the smell of decay was reported by neighbors. The man was reported to have died after choking on the meat of his recent kill, investigators also found stock-piles of human meat in his refrigerator and freezer in his basement. Several victims of the Chesapeake Ripper were found to be in Hannibal Lecter’s possession-“_ Will reads out loud from a news website article that Freddie had printed out. He sighs as he turns his gaze to the man beside him who appeared to be very much affected by the news.

Alana and Jack pace the small little living room belonging to Freddie, disturbed by the fact that they have been traveling and befriending a serial killer.

As Will hands the paper back to Freddie Lounds, he settles back into his chair beside Hannibal, unphased by the revelation.

“It seems that Frederick had lied about the circumstances of my death as well,” Hannibal finally says, breaking the awkward tension that had grown between all five of the humans when Freddie uttered those words. For Will, he could see that something was bothering Hannibal and it was not over the fact that Frederick had lied to him. Will allows his barriers in his mind down, really taking in the man beside him and reads him.

Loneliness.

For Hannibal to die alone, his body rotting away to the point that the neighbors had to call over the stench of decaying flesh, it was disturbing for him. The reality that his time on Earth, while fulfilling in some ways, was an extremely lonely experience with no one there beside him to share it. There is a stiffness to Hannibal, the person-suit he had constructed to present himself to the World at full-force now as he tries to hide his loneliness from Will. But, instead of retreating back, Will wordlessly takes his hand.

“You still want to be with him? He’s a serial killer Will!” Jack exclaims, his brows tense with frustration.

Will squeezes Hannibal’s hand tighter with that, “I’ve known for a while now.”

“You’ve known?” Alana gasps.

“The killer of Garret Jacob Hobbs and the Chesapeake Ripper hooking up,” Freddie grins, looking at the serial killer couple on her couch.

Both Jack and Alana seem to perk up at yet another revelation being shared, “the killer of who?” Alana asks.

“What? Are they both serial killers? No wonder he wants to shack up with the Chesapeake Ripper then,” Jack motions to both Will and Hannibal, more annoyed that he wasn’t able to detect something off with those two given that he was a police chief in his life on Earth.

“Serial killer? No, but Will did kill one,” Freddie responds, picking up another news article from her desk and handing it off to Jack.

It’s Jack that reads from the paper next: “ _The Minnesota Shrike is dead after FBI Special Agent Will Graham (pictured, right) shot the mass-murdering cannibal several times before succumbing to his own neck wound. His partner, Miriam Lass escaped the bloodshed, remarking: ‘loosing Will is a great loss, both to me as a partner and a friend.’_ ”

Alana shakes her head, taking that information in, “that was self-defense…I cannot believe that you were sent to the Bad Place for defending yourself.” Unsettled, she looks at Will and Hannibal holding each other’s hand. “I believe that Hannibal should be the one to return to Hell while we all stay here, he’s the only one actually deserving to be there.”

“You all belong there,” Abel Gideon says behind them all, standing in the door way of Freddie’s house.

Shocked, Freddie rises from her computer and folds her arm, looking upon the demon with disdain, “you’re not allowed to be here.”

Abel starts forward, followed by Frederick, and two other demons that no longer had their human-suits on. They walk toward the humans, nearly hitting their heads on the ceiling as they stomp into the home. “Nice work killing me,” Brian’s voice comes out of one of the demons, his soulless eyes staring down at Will, “death by fishing rope. Unique.”

All the humans are standing now, almost a show-down between them and the demons. Abel Gideon smiles, “Frederick certainly has miscalculated you Will when he placed you with Hannibal Lecter. Instead of fighting your enjoyment of killing, you took right to it.”

Frustrated, Will ignores Abel and turns his attention to Frederick instead, “why didn’t you tell me that I killed Garett Jacob Hobbs? You lied about how Hannibal died, anything else you aren’t telling us Frederick?”

“If I had told you that you killed Hobbs, you wouldn’t believe that you belonged in the Good Place. The whole entire point was to lie to you, are you really that shocked?” Frederick replies, more annoyed to be dragged along with Abel’s plan than anything else, “Hannibal choked to death on human meat, so I changed his death listed in his file for fun. Crushed by a chandelier? Now that's gold.”

In the back, Freddie opens a latch that reveals a large button underneath. She forcefully slaps the button, her body tense from her home suddenly being intruded upon with demons. It had been one thing to allow the two demons from before into her home, she had scored a computer out of it. But these guys? She wanted to be rid of them.

Suddenly, before them appears two angels from the Good Place. The angel is slighty chubby with a thick beard, short in stature, but unlike any of the angels that they have pictured in their minds, Franklyn Froideveaux didn’t have any wings on his back. “Oh, hi…” Franklyn announces, an awkward smile on his face as he raises his hand in an equally awkward wave. The other angel was blind, a black woman with two tigers beside her, carrying herself with a sense of strength compared to Franklyn. Reba McClane was an angel that the demons would never mess with.

Abel sneers when he spots him, “really? They sent you?” And then he turns and regards Reba, his tone much more respectful now, "Reba, nice to have you with us again."

"You four aren’t allowed to be here,” Reba replies to the four demons.

Franklyn looks over the four humans from the Bad Place and his eyebrows tense, confused: “and you four don’t belong here either. What’s going on?”

It’s Jimmy that speaks up, his voice jarring from coming out of the demon’s body, “these humans escaped the Bad Place, we’re bringing them back to their new neighborhood.”

“New neighborhood?” Alana asks, her Beverlys next to her, silently taking in the whole commotion. “We’re not going back,” she stands firm.

“It’s not right to send good people to Hell for killing in self-defense,” Jack adds. “Just take Hannibal, he’s a serial killer for god’s sake, how are we the same as him?”

Hannibal turns to glare at Jack, mentally pushing him up his kill-and-eat-list. “If Will is staying here, then I will be as well.”

“Or Will can join you back in the Bad Place,” Jack seethes.

Franklyn puts up his hands in surrender, “hey, hey, calm down guys. I’m only here to get rid of those demons, if you four have issues with where you were placed in the After-life, I have nothing to do with that. You’re gonna have to take that up with the Eternal Judge.”

“The Eternal Judge?” Will asks, his hands still gripping Hannibal’s.

Freddie replies, “she’s the one who sent me here to the Medium Place. They’ve never had a case where a human had a total of zero points and she created the Medium Place for me.” Then Freddie looks upon Alana, the Beverlys, and Jack, “if you guys want to stay in the Medium Place, you’ll have to take it up with her.”

“Oh, come on. You four clearly belong in the Bad Place. Murder is murder,” Frederick scoffs, “no excuse for taking a life.”

“I’m not going anywhere without speaking with this Eternal Judge first,” Jack stands his ground. All of the humans nod in agreement.

"Very well," Reba replies, snapping her fingers. Suddenly, the world shifts and morphs, the living room belonging to Freddie Lounds disappearing and replaced with sterile grey walls and a wooden desk sitting in the middle.

Bedelia Du Maurier, wearing a black robe and sitting at a large wooden desk, is mid-way through eating a sandwich. She sighs, putting the sandwich down with a look of annoyance as she stares at the demons, the angels, the two Beverlys, and the humans before her, “I'm on my lunch break, what do you want?”

"These humans believe that they do not belong in the Bad Place. They would like to be reassigned into the Medium Place instead," Reba explains.

Bedelia exhales as she stands up, still behind her desk, “none of you are allowed in the Medium Place.”

“How am I designated for the same place as the pedophile I killed!?” Alana yells at the same time that Jack asks: “why not?”

She regards Jack and Alana with a cool sense of detachment, “there are strict rules. Anyone who kills another being, no matter the reason shall be in the Bad Place.”

Alana is taken aback. Jack destroyed at the aspect that he’ll never be reunited with his wife in the Good Place.

As a portal opens behind all of them, Bedelia motions to it and continues, “if you’d please. I’d like to enjoy the rest of my lunch break. My decisions are final.”

Jimmy and Brian both take Alana and Jack, carrying them away into the portal as Alana wrestles against the demonic bodies, “it’s unfair!” Alana cries, upset and crying. Jack was too detached from it all, too heart broken to fight against the demons plans anymore and was sucked into the portal without a fight.

The angels stand back near the portal, Reba petting her tigers as Franklyn awkwardly watches everything unfold before him.

Frederick sighs, sitting down in one of the chairs in Bedelia’s office.

“And what about us?” Hannibal finally asks, protective of Will beside him he grabs Will’s hand into his. Hoping that they wouldn’t be separated.

“We have different plans for you two,” Abel says, standing beside Bedelia’s desk.

Curious, Bedelia turns to look upon Abel, “what are you planning on?”

“I would like for you two to become demons.”

“What?” Will’s mouth falls, surprised. Beside him, even Hannibal showed bewilderment on his usually stoic face.

Abel continues, sitting on Bedelia’s desk now as he looks upon the two humans, “recently the demons running the neighborhood for cannibalism have become…well, they’re no longer scary. If anything, the occupants of that neighborhood have developed a sort of vore kink.” Abel shudders, “they find it kind of sexy to be eaten, which I’m a demon and I still don’t get it. Honestly, at least a foot fetish is understandable…” Frederick fake coughs, making a motion with his hands at Abel to get to the point, “Well, we need it to not be sexy.”

“What?” Will asks again. Flabbergasted at the turn of events. Hannibal’s jaw slightly agape now.

“You two could bring a new flair to torture with cannibalism. I mean, the Chesapeake Ripper as our resident demon in Hell, your work on Earth was beautiful and we need that new style here in the Bad Place.”

Fredrick adds in: “we mostly wanted you, Hannibal. But we know you wouldn’t agree to this without your boy toy at your side.”

“Yes, yes, you won’t be tortured. You’ll be able to live in the neighborhood, with both of these Beverlys,” he points to the Good Beverly and the Bad Beverly who are both distraught from the loss of their girlfriend Alana, “we’ll probably have to reset them both, they seem rather attached to that human, but you’ll be rulers of your own Hell instead of our victims.”

Hannibal looks over to Will, an expression on his face that he was totally into this. Becoming a demon, ruling over his own neighborhood, getting to kill and consume whoever he wished to consume.

Staring back, Will understands immediately that Hannibal wants to agree but not until Will agrees as well. The devotion in his eyes was clear, Hannibal would follow Will anywhere even if it was to be the torture victims instead of the torturer. Will looks up at Abel and Frederick, “so what? We have to drink your blood or something to become demons?”

Frederick frowns, disgusted, “ew, no, gross. We’re not vampires.”

“You’ve already eaten the flesh of a demon, the demonic DNA will allow you to become a demon yourself if you so choose to be. Bedelia here will be able to make that change permanent, you’ll never be able to be a human again after that however,” Abel explains. “You’ll look the same as you do now, except you’ll have a demonic form as well.”

“I want to go on my break now, so you two have…” Bedelia stares down at her watch, “two minutes to decide.”

Turning towards Will, Hannibal takes his hand into his and kisses Will on the knuckles, “whatever you decide, I will follow.”

“Oh, yeah, no. You two will be separated if you don’t agree with this,” Abel explains.

Will breathes, “you clearly want to do this Hannibal, and I don’t want to spend my eternity separated from you and tortured.” A soft smile grows on Hannibal’s face as Will nods and turns to Abel and agrees: “We’ll do it, as long as Hannibal gets to see his sister and I still get my dogs.”

Abel nods, “ah, yes. Your sister Mischa, she’s in the Good Place as you’ve probably already know. We can allow you to see her once every hundred years. And yes, you’ll have your dogs, Will. Are you two ready?”

Both Hannibal and Will nod, their hands intertwined in each other’s, as Bedelia snaps her fingers.

They both open their eyes to a children’s park, the sky blue and sunny. A soft breeze running through their hair. Behind them, Frederick and Abel Gideon waited for them to be done and return to their new neighborhood.

Briefly, Will and Hannibal regard each other, they look the same as they always have. If they were demons, they couldn’t tell from the same outwardly appearance. Childrens' laughter breaks them from each other as Hannibal hears the laughter of his long-lost sister.

Even after decades away from her, he knew that laugh immediately.

Hannibal steps forward toward the child’s park, watching as Mischa runs and plays with several other children her age or younger. When Mischa slides down the slide, wearing one of the play dresses their mother would dress her in, she notices Hannibal.

Will stays behind, letting Hannibal be alone with his little sister. He watches as the little girl runs toward her big brother, with a huge smile on her face as she jumps into his arms, recognizing him immediately even with him being decades older.

There’s a natural and blissful smile on Hannibal’s face as he hugs his sister, spinning her around in a tight embrace. Will can’t help but smile watching the two, there was something beautiful about seeing Hannibal truly happy. The person suit he always wore completely off, his emotions clear as day to the entire world.

For Hannibal, it was as if everything on Earth that had happened after her death was a far away dream. Having his sister back in his arms, someone who was truly good and never corrupted by the horror of Earth. She was perfection, and Hannibal ached to let her go as she wiggled in his arms - desperate to get to playing again.

Abel and Frederick come to stand beside Will as they watch it unfold, “the angels said five minutes top.”

“I had twenty-four hours with my mom,” Will replies, watching as Mischa drags Hannibal towards the slide. He smiles as Hannibal forgets everything about the way he carried himself and happily smiles as he slid down the slide with Mischa in his lap. It was as if Hannibal's emotions have been put on hold, and now everything was flooding out around Mischa. This was Hannibal at his most raw, Will can see. 

Abel snorts, “yeah, well you weren’t actually in the Good Place. The angels up here are sticklers.” Abel turns and looks over Franklyn and Reba, with her two tigers beside her, stand stiffly in the distance – making sure the demons from the Bad Place didn’t try anything.

Hannibal kisses his sister on the cheek, a tear rolling down his own as he embraces her one last time. She was so full of joy and innocence that she ran back towards the playground with the other children, leaving Hannibal there to watch her.

Will joins him, noticing the tears on his cheek, and takes his hand into his, “we have to go, Hannibal. You'll see her again.”

He nods, and the two former humans rejoin Frederick and Abel, and they are brought to the portal to take them to their new neighborhood in the Bad Place.

Their new house in the new neighborhood of Hell was a mixture of Hannibal’s tastes and Will’s. No longer did they reside in a small rundown cabin in the woods, but instead a larger mansion with a rustic charm to it.

There was a porch in the back, where they could look out into a massive lake that plenty of fish swam in just ready to be fished for and eaten for when they have other appetites for flesh that isn’t human. The horrid paintings from Thomas Kinkade from the previous neighborhood were no where to be seen now as they were replaced with more magnificent works of art. 

The kitchen was as it was on Earth, with state of the art technology to killing and cooking the humans that were to be tortured. The kill room in the basement larger than the one previously, with plenty more freezers to store the plethora of human flesh just waiting to be eaten.

But it isn’t often that they don’t crave human flesh, now that they were demons and had plenty of rude horrible humans residing in their domain. They have grown fond of Alana, allowing her to have her own little home near their vicinity. Hannibal respected Will’s wishes, and never tried to torture or consume her, allowing her to live the rest of her days with the Beverlys until her wife Margot passed away on Earth and joined her. For Will, Alana was right to kill the abusive pedophile, and while the Eternal Judge wouldn't allow her to be in the Medium Place or the Good Place, Will wanted her to be comfortable. 

For Jack, his memories were reset since they didn’t care much for the former police chief. He was off their torture list, and they let him be, finding the exhilaration of the chase of Jack finding out who they are to be one of their games to occupy their time. They would leave him evidence behind of their kills, poking and prodding him into suspicion and paranoia that there were killings happening in the "Good Place" that they decided to keep the pretense of up for the fun and games of it all. Him not being reunited with Bella, was in Will’s opinion, enough torture for the man.

Their fridge and kill basement was always stocked, always finding new ways to torture the humans placed into their neighborhood before finally ending their lives and eating them as they were reset into another neighborhood.

The sex was also exhilarating, Will finds. Both of their demonic forms were dark as night creatures, with large antlers, and they were very much well-endowed as they would fuck each other nearly almost every night. They would switch occasionally, but Will couldn't help but love it when Hannibal would shift into his demonic form and fuck him until his legs would give out from pleasure.

Their bedroom looked much like Hannibal's did on Earth in Baltimore before he passed away. One of the dogs laid on top of him, yet again it was the hairy Baker that couldn't help but lay on top of Hannibal's sleeping body. As he wakes up, the soft light filtering in through the curtains, Hannibal smiles as he watches Will continue to sleep beside him, now back in their human forms. Leaning over, Hannibal places a kiss on Will's lips before standing up and putting on some pants as he walks out into their balcony. The dogs scatter with excitement now that one of their masters were awake.

He sits into one of the chairs overlooking the lake below, watching as the sun rises. A couple of the dogs settling beside his feet. There's a rustle behind him, as Will joins him outside, wearing nothing but the boxers that were flung to the floor last night in their aroused haste. 

"The sunrise is still beautiful even in this new neighborhood."

"It is," Hannibal agrees, no longer staring at it but instead at his soulmate. "Do you still disagree that we are soulmates, Will? After everything that happened?"

Will smiles, settling himself onto Hannibal's lap and wrapping his arms around his neck, "you're my soulmate and I am yours." He then presses his lips to his soulmate's, enjoying the pressure of Hannibal's tongue on his, the passionate and rough progression as they deepen their kiss.

Wanting to kiss Hannibal forever, Will breaks away, breathing heavily as he stares down at Hannibal. There is so much love and adoration on his face as Hannibal smiles back.

They both stand up, softly they embrace each other as they stare out into the sunrise; enjoying the large expanse of their own domain, where they will be rulers of their neighborhood together forever.


End file.
